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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28049031">Keeping Up with the Royals</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/loafingdragon/pseuds/loafingdragon'>loafingdragon</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtleassiduities/pseuds/subtleassiduities'>subtleassiduities</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Boys will be Embarrassing [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, But nobody does, Everyone wants to kill each other a little, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mutual Pining, Or so the masses think, Romantic Comedy, Sharing a Bed, Shotgun Wedding, Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn, Slut Shaming, but not a lot, romcom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:41:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>32,307</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28049031</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/loafingdragon/pseuds/loafingdragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtleassiduities/pseuds/subtleassiduities</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Fuegoleon makes a confusing but endearing discovery, a series of terrible decisions on Nozel's part leads to a royal wedding that is wildly out of control. Nobody knows what's going on, least of all Fuegoleon, and with time rapidly running out to fix it, the royals are forced to make some very important decisions.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fuegoleon Vermillion &amp; Mereoleona Vermillion, Nebra Silva &amp; Noelle Silva &amp; Nozel Silva &amp; Solid Silva, Nozel Silva &amp; Dorothy Unsworth, Nozel Silva/Fuegoleon Vermillion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Boys will be Embarrassing [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696627</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>104</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>93</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Late Arrival</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Good day, everyone! I am proud to announce that I am back on my bullshit!<br/>This piece is a very quickly thrown-together prequel for a much longer work! While I didn't originally intend to write it, that work absolutely necessitates this one, so here it is! The chapters are short and sweet, and the story is meant to keep you flying by the seat of your pants, since that's what the characters are doing.<br/>A few universe notes to help you acclimate:<br/>-This takes place after the elf invasion<br/>-Elves got the choice to stay. Many of them did. They comfortably coexist with their human hosts.<br/>-Julius still "died", but instead of getting Benjamin Buttoned, he just disappeared. Nobody knows where he went. This is being quietly investigated while the magic knight captains shoulder his responsibilities. Owen is still masquerading as him with a bandaged face, just like in canon.<br/>-We're not going to worry about how the Spade arc fits into all this.<br/>I hope you enjoy, because I really enjoyed writing this! Please leave a comment with your thoughts!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hurry up, Leo! We’re running late!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s booming voice sent his younger brother scrambling down the hall, chattering half-formed apologies as he went. Fuegoleon was only a few paces behind him, jaw set, fists clenched in frustration. They reached their bedchambers and their doors slammed closed in synch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon whipped off his Crimson Lion robe and tossed it onto its dedicated hook. He shimmied out of his tunic and undershirt and rushed to the bathroom. All the while the same frustrated mantra played in his head again and again: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nozel is going to be so angry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He ran the water and splashed his face. It didn’t run as brown like he’d feared, but it didn’t run clear either. If he was this dirty, he’d have to take a full shower. Cursing under his breath, he turned the water off, started the shower, and stripped. Of all days for Leopold and the Crimson Lions to lose track of the time, it had to be today.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The shower water was too hot, but he didn’t adjust it as he stepped under the stream. He could hear his rival’s scathing voice, see his glare locked on him from across the room. Fuegoleon couldn’t remember the last time he’d been late to an event, and it was going to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> one? He’d never hear the end of it. Nozel would be chewing him out for the next year. All because no one had been watching the clock, and he’d let the sparring matches go on for too long…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He marched out of the bathroom,rivulets of water still dripping down his perfectly sculpted chest and stomach with a towel around his waist. They had </span>
  <em>
    <span>ten minutes before they were late.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He’d never make it in time. He hadn’t even completely dried off, and Leopold always took longer getting ready than he did. Hissing new curses under his breath, he pulled open his closet and searched for something appropriate to wear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was when he first heard it: a soft, gurgling, murmur.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hairs on his neck stood on end. He whirled around, fists raised. His senses scanned the room for strange mana, and he found it. There was something tucked among his pillows.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What is that?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He internally groaned. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Some kind of prank? Is Meoroleona home?</span>
  </em>
  <span> It wouldn’t be the first time she left a wild animal in his room. But this didn’t seem like a wild animal. It was too… human. Completely foreign but distinctly familiar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poised to strike, he crept forward. The sound continued to rise from his pillows, growing louder and softer in random spurts. Whatever this thing was, it was… babbling? He didn’t know what else to call it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The gentle shift among the pillows told him exactly where it had settled before he was on top of it. One of the decorative pillows seemed to have fallen over it, and it was trying to dislodge it with a pitiful effort. Still ready to strike, Fuegoleon extended his flame hand, clutched the pillow, and lifted it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thought he’d braced for anything. He’d been prepared to defend; to strike; to call an exterminator. Even to run. A lifetime of being ready at a moment’s notice to defend against political enemies, wild animals, combative adversaries, even his own sister, had prepared him for a lot of things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had not prepared him to be staring into the face of a baby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dropped the pillow on the bed, wide-eyed. The infant laying in front of him had big purple eyes, outlined in the telltale Vermillion red. Its skin was a creamy white, and its hair a soft gold. It blinked until it adjusted to the light, and then locked eyes with him. Recognition-- unmistakable, even on the face of a baby --shined in its eyes, and a smile stretched across its round little face. It stretched its arms toward him, throwing back the sleeves of the blue and white dress it wore. A dress that was unmistakably Silva.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of three things, Fuegoleon was direly sure. One: This child was not in his room before he had entered the bathroom. Two: It did not belong to anyone else in House Vermillion. Three: He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was his child. His son. His beloved baby boy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, like he was afraid that the baby would disappear if he moved too fast, he scooped him out of the pillows and brought him to his chest. The baby’s grin persisted, and he stuck his hand in his mouth and babbled at him, perfectly at home in his arms. Warmth blossomed in the Vermillion’s broad chest easily, as if it had always been there.  He couldn’t comprehend </span>
  <em>
    <span>why,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but he loved this child with all his heart. And he always had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A fist pounded against his door. Leo. “I’m ready! Are you coming? Let’s go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shifting the baby to one arm, he stepped to the door and pulled it open. Leopold’s eyes widened at the sight of him; first in disbelief at his undressed form, and then in baffled surprise at his unexpected guest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon cleared his throat, but his words still came out sticky. “I don’t think I’ll be making it tonight.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Party Crash</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While trying to enjoy his birthday party, Nozel gets really drunk. Then, he gets a letter. This makes for an explosive combination.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is where the shit really hits the fan. The humor in this chapter might be kind of niche, but if it's not your jam, it's more or less the only of its kind. Lots of drinking and drunken hijinks.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Nozel stood by the ballroom doors, watching through narrowed eyes as Kirsch worked the dance floor into a frenzy. Music boomed from the band so loud that it rattled the window panes. The sweet and succulent aromas of dinner had swiftly been replaced by expensive liquor and sweat. He’d stopped trying to greet everyone who came in about an hour ago; once the afterparty started, this wasn’t his party anymore, and everybody here knew that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s this? Pouting in the corner? On your birthday?” Dorothy bounced up to him, seemingly as weightless here as she was in Glamour World. “What’s got you looking so down, birthday boy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel grumbled and looked away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello? Are you ignoring me?” Dorthy glided into his line of sight-- barely --and waved her hand over her head. “Why aren’t you enjoying your party? Is it because a certain someone isn’t here…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s scowl deepened. “He’s punctual to everything but this. I should kill him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be like that,” Dorothy soothed, patting his arm. “I’m sure Fuegoleon has his reasons.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not one that he could be bothered to share.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothy rolled her eyes, but her smile remained. “Hey! I’ve got something for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reluctantly, his eyes slid down to meet his best friend’s. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The witch’s smile widened. She curled her finger, beckoning him down. “Come closer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dorothy…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be a party pooper! Lean down!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel narrowed his eyes, stood, and lowered his head. She made like she was going to whisper in his ear, only to whip a party hat from behind her back and pop it onto his head. The elastic hit the bottom of his chin with an unpleasant snap, and he recoiled, clutching the hat with a scowl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothy clapped her hands and laughed. “There! Now you look the part! No, no! Leave it on! I have something else!” She reached behind her back again. This time, it reappeared with a bottle of exotic liquor. “See? Happy birthday!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is this?” Nozel took the bottle and looked it over. The liquid inside was honey gold, and the label on it wasn’t in any language he recognized.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Witch’s Brew! I might have popped into the Witch’s Forest between missions.” She winked and flashed a peace sign. “We’re gonna get crunk!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not drinking this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes you are, fussy britches! You need to lighten up! The only one not having a good time is you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes narrowed, but he already knew he’d lost this fight. His proper, professional birthday celebration had ended when his elders left for the night. This was a Coral Peacock rager now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothy’s smile turned cheeky. She reached behind her back again, and pulled out two shot glasses. “Just a couple of shots~!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A couple of shots?” Nebra, emerging from the growing mosh pit, strolled up to them, looking up to no good. She flashed Dorothy a conspiratorial grin and eyed the bottle in Nozel’s hands. “Oh, finally, you’ll lighten up some, brother.” In a stage whisper she added to Dorothy, “He’s been sulking about a certain red-headed rival being absent all night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew it!” Dorothy sang, letting loose a contagious laugh. “I’m going to change that. It’s a party, everyone should have fun!” As she spoke, she produced a third shot glass from behind her back, and winked at Nebra. “Will one of you please get that opened for me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel rolled his eyes. “No need.” Mercury snaked its way into the cork, and with a soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>pop</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the bottle came open. He filled the shot glasses and picked one up. “Are you happy now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothy smirked. “I’ll be happy when </span>
  <em>
    <span>you’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> happy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>✥---✥</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tip of Dorothy’s hat danced at the corner of Nozel’s vision, and then vanished. He whirled around, and the room went spinning. Somewhere in his twirl, his drink fell out of his hand. He was either going to pick it up or face plant-- he hadn’t decided yet --when Dorothy slipped under him, pushing him upright with her hands to his chest. “Woah there, birthday boy! Easy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel straightened and smoothed his top, swaying as the room came into focus. “That’s enough, Dorothy. I’m taking it easy enough as it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see that!” she laughed. “Are you having fun now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lifted his chin and looked around, surveying the room of moving shapes that the dancers had become. The music had boiled down to a rhythmic thrum in the soles of his feet. He hadn’t even realized he was still dancing. “I am!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good! And it only took six shots!” She wasn’t any steadier on her feet than he was, but she hid it better. When she started to totter sideways, Nozel grabbed her hand, and she came upright with a twirl. If she’d lost her grip on his hand, she would have twirled into the snack table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel couldn’t remember ever being this drunk. How the hell had he done six shots? He was pretty sure he’d only counted four, but he definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt</span>
  </em>
  <span> a lot drunker than four shots. “Hey, Dorothy.” He craned his head down, looming drunkenly over his tiny friend. “What kind of alcohol was that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She laughed and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He straightened, eyes narrowed suspiciously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothy winked and shimmied to the music. Her shimmie sent her elbow directly into the crotch of a servant coming up behind her. He doubled over with a pained yelp, a letter fluttering from his hand. She peered at him dumbly. “Whoops.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that? What’d he drop?” Nozel set a hand on Dorothy’s head and pointed at the letter. “Pick that up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still wheezing, the servant plucked the letter off the floor and held it up to him. He snatched it from his fingers and squinted at the Vermillion seal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothy snaked her way under his arm to get a look. “That seal!” she gasped. “It must be from Fuegoleon~! Come on! Let’s go read it!” She ducked out from under his arm, grabbed him by the elbow, and dragged him off the dance floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel hadn’t noticed earlier, but the party had spilled into other rooms of House Silva. They passed by the courtyard, where magic knights were drunkenly wrestling in the grass. In the game room, Solid was screaming about losing a game of checkers. Nebra was singing karaoke in the music room. She sounded so bad that they rushed past as fast as their drunken legs could take them. The lights in the kitchen were on, and someone was baking. It smelled like snickerdoodles and burned chicken-- not a promising combination.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dorothy didn’t stop until they found an alcove away from the party. There she pulled Nozel to a squat and leaned over his shoulder. “What’s it say?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel broke the seal and unfolded the letter, eyes wide. He peeled over it for the name of the sender, and then an explanation, and then he reread it carefully, piling each detail into his sloppy brain like ice cream on a cone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My Revered Rival,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>First, I would like to extend my sincerest wishes for a happy and prosperous birthday. I deeply apologize for my absence, but I have found myself in a strange predicament in which House Silva plays a part.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>At your earliest convenience, I believe the relevant members of House Silva and House Vermillion should meet to discuss the future of this child. I am woe to admit that explanations escape me in this moment, but I am sure that we can come to a consensus on what is to be done.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Best Wishes,</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Fuegoleon Vermillion</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s eyes rove the page like a dog tracking a scent. They finally locked on a single word. His voice cracked like an out of tune violin. “Child?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Woah,” Dorothy breathed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The gears were turning in Nozel’s head. He rose to a stand, the paper crinkling between his clenched fists. “She didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who didn’t?” Dorothy peeped. “Didn’t what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She did!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did what!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That </span>
  <em>
    <span>whore!”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He took off down the hall like an angry and very drunk bull. Dorothy scampered after him as he flew past the kitchen, flew past the game room, flew past the ballroom, and stomped into the music room. Nebra was still belting out lyrics while everyone who could bare the sound of her voice cheered her on. There weren’t many left. As Nozel pushed his way to the front of the crowd she yelled, “Apple bottom jeans! Boots with the fur! The whole club was looking at her! She hit the-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nebra!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She startled and grinned at him drunkenly. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you sleep with my rival!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The music stopped with a record scratch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel jabbed a finger at her. “Did you </span>
  <em>
    <span>sleep</span>
  </em>
  <span> with my rival?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuegoleon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes! Fuegoleon!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I didn’t!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room dissolved into scandalized murmurs. Nozel’s voice reached a crescendo over them. “YES, YOU DID!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra clutched her microphone. “No I didn’t!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You little slut!” he hollered, stalking toward her like a tipsy cat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra wailed. “I didn’t sleep with Fuegoleon!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s just what a whore with a bastard would say!” he screeched. “You’re out of the house!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What!? NO!” Nebra shrieked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh boy,” Dorothy muttered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pack all of your shit! You’re out! Out!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The crowd was screaming. Nebra wailed like a Greek mourner, clutching her microphone in confused desperation. Nozel was about to fall over. Dorothy wove through the crowd, and before could reach his sister, she tapped Nozel on the back. He vanished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s enough partying for tonight I think!” She laughed nervously, took off her hat, and bowed like a show was ending. “Goodnight everybody!” And she vanished, too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra stood in front of the crowd of friends turned witnesses. The band exchanged panicked looks as she sniffled loudly. She brought the mic close to her lips, and the band scrambled to play just a beat after she picked up the next line of the song. “The baggy sweatpants and the Reeboks with the straps… She turned around and gave that big booty a smack…”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Bait and Switch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The morning after Nozel's birthday party, Nozel, Nebra, and Fuegoleon have a meeting.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I-- I don't know what to say about this chapter. Sorry for posting cringe I guess.</p>
<p>Also this day is the longest in the whole story (at three and a half chapters) because I wanted Nozel to suffer as much as humanly possible. We're pushing this boy to his limits for maximum shenanigans. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I can’t believe he did this. Have you seen this headline? Solid, are you awake? Your face is literally in your cereal. Oh my god.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra picked up her fork and stabbed her little brother in the arm. Solid animated with a yelp, his head flying out of his bowl and spraying milk and fruit loops across the table. Nebra, prepared, shielded herself with the newspaper. “Are you done? If you couldn’t be decent at the breakfast table, you shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m awake!” Solid sputtered, swiping up a napkin and wiping his face. “What headline?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She tossed the morning’s copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Clover Weekly</span>
  </em>
  <span> onto the table</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
  <span>The cover article sported a picture of Nozel, wearing a party hat, finger pointed dramatically, face twisted into an uncharacteristic and drunken scowl. The headline read </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Get Thee to a Nunnery:” Nozel Silva Defames and Disowns Sister Nebra Silva in Epic Confrontation.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solid squinted at the article, mouthing the words. “Huh… Did that really happen? I thought people were making shit up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It did! This article is scarily accurate!” Nebra sank into her seat and picked up her tea. “He was completely shitfaced when he did it--”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Obviously.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“--but he did it! Wait, what did you hear?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh…” Solid ran his fingers through his bangs and picked up the paper, skimming the article while he thought. “That Nozel called you a slut and said you slept with Fuegoleon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra sank lower in her chair and buried her face in her hand. “I can’t believe he would do that! And then Dorothy whisked him away without explaining a thing, so </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> looked like the drunk idiot! What am I going to do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Nothing? Big brother will obviously clear this up once he’s sober.” Solid picked up a piece of toast and took a generous bite, still skimming the article. “It’s not like you…. ‘Had a sordid affair with the Crimson Lion captain that resulted in a bastard’, did you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra leered at him. “What do you think?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solid stared back, chewing very slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I didn’t!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, right, obviously.” He nodded and set down the paper. “So there’s nothing to worry about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just wish I knew why!” she whined. “Did he hear a rumor? Or did Dorothy get him really drunk?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She probably did get him really drunk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But drunk enough to do </span>
  <em>
    <span>this?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solid shrugged, his soft blue eyes fixing on his toast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra took a long sip of her tea. “Well, if he doesn’t go about fixing this today, I will say something to him. I just can’t believe…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She trailed off. Solid cocked a brow, expectant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Breakfast is over. Come with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solid startled, losing his grip on his toast. Nebra grimaced at her elder brother, who had come up behind Solid looking like he would destroy anything in his path if he wasn’t so hungover. He was impeccably dressed, but not even his makeup could hide the telltale signs of post-party misery on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are we going?” Nebra straightened her back. “I thought you’d still be with Dorothy after last night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are going to sort this out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solid’s eyes bugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra blinked. “W-We’re-?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Get up, Nebra. We have someplace to be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solid peered over his shoulder. “Not me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not you,” Nozel grumbled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, Nebra set down her tea. “Alright. Since I didn’t do anything wrong, this should be quick to disprove. You’ll explain that it was all a drunken misunderstanding and we’ll go about our day, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s scowl deepened. “Get up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Working not to fidget, Nebra rose from her seat, smoothed her skirt, and stepped to her brother’s side. Solid spared her a sympathetic grimace as she followed Nozel out of the dining room and down the hall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra didn’t know where they were going. She expected to find a group of journalists somewhere at the fringe of the property who had been gathered to make this situation right. But their path didn’t take them off royal grounds. Instead they left House Silva to traverse the courtyard that separated the three royal houses, and to her embarrassment, into House Vermillion. If she thought she could get anywhere, she would have asked questions. But she knew her brother well enough to know that he was way too hungover and cranky to entertain her ignorance. Whatever was going on now, she was along for the ride.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Led by a servant, Nebra and Nozel stepped into a sitting room. Inside were three people: Fuegoleon Vermillion, sitting in a lounge chair with his elbows on his knees; a servant kneeling on the floor, and between them, shaking a toy lion, clad in fire Vermillion robes, a baby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon lifted his head as the two approached. Wordlessly, he pushed out of his seat and picked up the baby. A softly spoken word to the servant dismissed her, and once she was gone he turned to the Silvas. He hadn’t quite decided what to say when the baby’s purple eyes locked on the two. He perked up and pointed. “Bah!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You recognize them?” Fuegoleon tilted his head, a puzzled smile etched into his features.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra reeled. She was peeling her mind for </span>
  <em>
    <span>any</span>
  </em>
  <span> memory of seeing a child that looked anything like this, and she wasn’t finding any. She looked to Nozel, her finger curling nervously to her lip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel wasn’t looking at her. He was staring at the baby, trying to stay mentally upright as he was bombarded by wave after wave feelings. By the time he’d woken up (tucked snugly in his bed by Dorothy), he’d been sure that whatever his drunken mind had cobbled together was all horseshit. But then he’d reread Fuegoleon’s letter, and he couldn’t contrive an explanation for it, and this meeting had already been scheduled. He’d been working up a righteous fury over the nonsense Fuegoleon had written to him when he saw that </span>
  <em>
    <span>there actually was a Silva-Vermillion baby</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And the moment he locked eyes with the child, all his plans went out the window. Something else had bullied them out of him, and now he was gripped by it: Baby. His baby. </span>
  <em>
    <span>His baby.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nebra, you’re dismissed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra gawked. “But Nozel, I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>dismissed.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra’s eyes leapt from him, to Fuegoleon, to the baby. The latter two were watching her. Neither was offering any help. Lips forming a thin line, she turned on her heel and strode out. The door closed accusatively behind her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel animated at once, walking across the room and holding out his hands. To his inexplicable relief, Fuegoleon shifted the baby into his arms without being told. The little boy’s face lit up as he settled in Nozel’s hold as easily as if he’d been there a hundred times. He lifted his little hand and caught the end of Nozel’s braid with a delighted coo. Nozel’s heart melted to putty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon watched them with a curious frown. “So. You recognize him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” He couldn’t pull his eyes off the baby’s perfect, shining face, but it didn’t matter anyway; the boy’s grip on his braid wouldn’t let him turn his head. “But…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know him?” Fuegoleon guessed. “You’ve never seen this child in your life, but you have some connection to him. Is that right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s brow furrowed. “What is going on, Fuegoleon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have no idea.” He crossed his arms and lowered his eyes. “I was on my way to your party when I found him in my bed. The medics have looked at him; he’s perfectly healthy, and about a year old. I am working on confirming that no one in House Vermillion has a child around this age, but I’m sure that my research will prove not, because I know that somehow, he is my son-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> son.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two locked eyes, but the spark of ignition for a stare down just wasn’t there. This was too weird. This was also a little awkward.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still at the mercy of the baby’s grip, Nozel maneuvered the room until he could sit in the lounge chair across from Fuegoleon’s. He set the baby in his lap and got to work peeling his fingers off his braid. “Are you sure that this isn’t some kind of trick? He could be enchanted… some sort of elaborate illusion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was checked for that. There is absolutely nothing out of the norm about him; physical or magical.” The fire mage cracked his fingers, eyes askance. “And if you got the same… impression as I did when you saw him, you know that he doesn’t belong to anyone else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is ridiculous. We are both-- We’ve never…. How could we-?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The question fizzled into the air, unasked and unanswered. The baby let out a giggle as Nozel finally managed to free his braid, but lost his cross clip. Nozel snatched the baby’s hand before he could stick it in his mouth. Fuegoleon shifted awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why did you call me here?” Nozel finally demanded. “It sounds like you knew perfectly well that there was no explanation for this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...You set the date and time.” He fished a letter out of his pocket and furrowed his brow at it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Hey Fuegoleon, </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>that sounds great! See you tomorrow morning, let’s say 9? I know you like to sleep in ;)</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>xoxo </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>~Nozel</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Now that I look at it, this doesn’t seem to be your handwriting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dorothy,” he sighed, plucking the clip out of the baby’s hand. “Well, what are we supposed to do about this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another uneasy silence fell between them. The baby filled it with laughter, trying to pull Nozel’s cross clip out of his hand while Nozel reclipped it to the end of his braid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon cleared his throat. “I guess we have to work out… joint custody?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuegoleon, a strange child has appeared inside a royal castle. This is not only an extremely powerful magical enigma, but also a massive breach in security!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand that, but since we seem to be in agreement that this child is </span>
  <em>
    <span>ours,</span>
  </em>
  <span> shouldn’t his wellbeing take equal priority?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel looked down at the baby, perturbed. He couldn’t argue that. He had no idea where this child came from, but he was pretty sure that should the need arise, he would burn down all three royal houses to keep him in his arms. That meant that not only did they need to find out how he got here; they needed to be sure that the answer meant that they could keep him. “You said that he appeared in your bed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...More or less, yes. The room has been searched and turned up nothing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did he come with anything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was wearing Silva infant robes. That’s why I wrote you. Otherwise, he was clean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...There is something I’d like to look into.” He stood, pulling the baby into his arms. “For the time being, keep this between us. I will report back to you if I gather any new information.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon nodded. “What is it that you’re looking into?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s more of a hunch than a lead. I’ll explain if it goes anywhere.” He turned and strode toward the door. “Not a word of this anywhere until I come back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nozel!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stopped and turned around. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon got to his feet, his frown teetering into a pout, and gestured to the baby on his hip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d hardly realized he was walking out with him. “Oh. Right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the Vermillion stepped up to him and held out his hands, Nozel’s eyes lingered on the baby. He looked perfectly happy to come with him. It wasn’t like Nozel was taking him anywhere dangerous. It would have been fine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon cleared his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He handed the baby back to him like he was turning in his Captain’s rank, and without a word, pushed through the doors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he stepped out of the sitting room, he was surprised to see Nebra standing in the hall waiting for him. He’d forgotten that she’d come along. It didn’t slow his pace, and she was forced to keep up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well?” Nebra fell into step behind him. “What is going on? Are you going to clear this up now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not now, Nebra. I have to look into something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What!?” Her voice cracked like a dropped dinner plate. “What about me? All the papers-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This isn’t about you. Take Solid and go to the base. I should be there by noon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra’s face turned an ugly shade of red. “Nozel!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ignored her as he stepped outside. Grimoire glowing, he summoned a silver eagle under his feet. Nebra was left shouting at him on the front lawn of House Vermillion as he took off for the Coral Peacock base.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>If this chapter felt a little boring, don't worry. The next chapter Is Not.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. What Happens at the Zoom Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nozel discusses his predicament with Dorothy, who offers a little insight. Then, he must rush to a captain's meeting, which doesn't go smoothly because nothing does today. We learn a little about Julius' disappearance and what the Clover Kingdom looks like post-elf invasion with the elves still around. But mostly, we get captain banter.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I do a lot of things in this chapter... explore Glamor World, explore the Clover Kingdom, explore the captain dynamic... There's a lot going on, and it's super fun. </p><p>This was the first chapter that my co-creator described as "hysterical". It's also so very obviously a chapter that would not look this way before COVID. So, look forward to that!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So there really is a baby!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorothy and her seat reeled, and all the ornamental pieces of Glamor World gasped in shock. Nozel’s scowl deepened. It was easy to forget, when the ornaments were pretending to be inanimate, that they all had micro-personalities of their own. And they never minded their own business. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What a turn of events!” the tiny captain cheeped. “I didn’t see that coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel set down his tea cup on the softly heaving table. “Dorothy, please. This is serious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am serious! I really didn’t see this coming!” She tossed her tea cup over her shoulder, and it vanished in a puff of purple smoke. “What does it look like? How old is it? Does it recognize you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Another puff of smoke revealed a cartoonish, orange-haired toddler with Nozel’s eyes. It danced circles around Nozel, making lyrical but generic baby noises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel sighed irritably. “Not like that. I didn’t come to gossip. I came because this is a magic anomaly, and I know that you investigate more of those than other captains.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Hm…” She sat back in her chair, tapping her chin. The imagined baby disappeared. “You should still answer some of my questions. Did it recognize you? Did you recognize it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. And Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow! That’s spooky.” Even though she was taking this seriously, she hadn’t lost any of her mirth. “And how old is it…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s about a year old,” Nozel said, sinking into his chair. Glamor World’s drowsy pull was especially strong today. Were it not for the importance of the subject at hand, he might give in to the temptation to sleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you think he’s yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s mine.” He shifted awkwardly. “Fuegoleon also knows that he’s his.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorothy’s glowing eyes widened like she could absorb the whole situation through them alone. A beat later, Nozel’s worst fear came true. “You- You and Fuegoleon have a baby together!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face twisted into an embarrassed grimace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorothy threw her head back and laughed. All of Glamor World laughed with her: the clouds trembling, the animals howling, the furniture chortling, sending the two of them bouncing in their chairs. Nozel gripped the armrests and waited for it to pass, hoping he wouldn’t heave up his tea and cookie in the meantime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just,” Dorothy wheezed, wiping her eyes, “that had to be a fantasy of yours at some time, right? It’s poetic!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel clutched the table and leered at her. “This has </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> been a fantasy of mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well no, not like this! But…” She settled into her chair and waved her hand, soothing the rest of Glamor World to quiet. “It is a little funny. Anyway, one of my projects definitely concerns this. I will look into it for you and let you know if I learn anything important, okay? But from what I know off the top of my head, there’s no danger involved.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” he muttered, smoothing his shirt. “In the meantime, can what you know give us any insight on how to proceed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it doesn’t take my intel to know that you better find a nanny!” She winked. “You’re a father now! Congratulations! Now, I have to get ready, so you’ll have to go now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not…” He trailed off as the world around him evaporated. Glamor World’s hold on his consciousness released with a snap, and he was once again standing in the Coral Peacock captain’s office. Reve sat, eyes half-lidded at Dorothy’s desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” He towered over the sleepy elf. “Dorothy, come out here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he leaned closer, Reve’s eye went askance. “She’s busy… Maybe you could talk to Yami…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel scowled and straightened. “What does he have to do with this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reve only stared back at him, wearing her usual blank expression. Perhaps there was some sort of judgement behind her placid gaze: like she was watching a particularly untalented clown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Resigned, he showed himself out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The absence of Glamor World’s lull hit him like a train. He was hungover, confused, anxious, and tired. Sure, it was good to know that there was no danger, but that didn’t make this any less weird. Had Dorothy really confirmed that he and Fuegoleon had a child together? Was he really a father? Thinking about it made his hangover headache pound harder. This could not be real. This could not be an actual situation he was being forced to deal with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulled back his sleeve to check the time, and another train hit him head-on: He had a remote captain’s meeting in half an hour. A nap would have to wait. This was just a monthly check-in; it would be short, and then he could get his bearings. He headed to the Silver Eagles base.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had just enough time to get to his office at his magic knight’s base and get ready. At 11:30, right on the dot, Marx’s communication portal appeared in front of his desk. The advisor’s gold eyes shifted about as one by one, eight other portals opened up in the air, each displaying a magic knight captain: William, framed by a stained glass window that completely washed out everything but the dark coloring of his scar. Yami in a dimly lit dungeon, scratching his chin like he was meeting some friends outside a bar. Jack at his desk, surprisingly presentable except for the ridiculous way he was sitting, and his ear to ear grin. Charlotte sat at her desk with her hands folded neatly in front of her, face straight and serious. The glare of a window looking into a garden washed out the left side of her screen. Rill sat at his desk, the walls behind him decorated with paintings that were definitely not all his. He looked like he was sitting with his legs folded under him, at a desk that was way too big for him. Dorothy was asleep at her desk as usual, snoring softly. Her hat covered the top half of her face; Nozel was surprised that neither she nor Reve had straightened it before the meeting started. Fuegoleon looked like he was sitting on a couch, but it was hard to tell for sure; wherever it was, it wasn’t his office at his base or his home study. The only captain who looked like they knew what they were doing was Kaiser, who sat at a desk with a well-stocked bookshelf behind him, waiting patiently for Marx to call the meeting to order.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, that should be everybody,” Marx declared. “Can everyone see each other?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One by one the captains confirmed their connection. Since the elf invasion, and Julius’ subsequent disappearance, the captains had been busier and more in touch than ever; a conflicting combination, were it not for Marx’s communication magic. Owen masquerading as the bandaged wizard king had staved off public hysteria, but the fact that it had been six months since his “injury” and the wizard king had still not faced the public unbandaged was eventually going to be a problem. The captains were eager to unravel the mystery of the disappearance of Julius Novachrono; a task that fell almost entirely on Dorothy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that in mind, it was no surprise to anyone that Marx turned to her first. “Captain Dorothy, do you have any updates on your research?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The witch lifted her head, and her eyes opened. “Actually, I do! I’ve found four more pages of the wizard king’s grimoire!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Satisfied murmures rippled through the group, but they were dull. “Have you found any signs of him?” Marx pressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have a lead,” she replied. “I’m going right back to searching as soon as we’re done here. I’ll be gone for the next two weeks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This seems like a tremendous load for Dorothy to bear alone,” Kaiser pointed out. “I have no doubts in her capabilities, but whenever she goes, she is gone for great lengths of time, and it seems that she can’t request backup should she need it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not as bad as it sounds,” Dorothy reassured him. “I’ve actually got a lot of backup! And Reeve’s right here, too, if I need her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should still know where you’re going!” Jack protested, cocking a brow. “How do we know if we’d be able to help when we don’t even know where you’re looking?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Captain Dorothy and I have discussed her travels, and I think that it’s in the best interest of our work for her to discuss it minimally until we have some answers,” Marx said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why is that?” Nozel asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a lot!” Dorothy replied. “It would give you a lot to think about, and that would be distracting. The kingdom needs you all focused on running it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A begrudging murmur of agreement worked its way through the group. Even Jack, who was very sure that he’d have more fun gallivanting around with Dorothy than doing kingdom paperwork, acquiesced with a pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please arrange for the pages of Julius’ grimoire to be brought to my office as soon as possible,” Marx said. “Now, who would like to go next?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>William offered his monthly report next. The reconstruction efforts necessary after the elf invasion were coming along at a stupendous speed, thanks to the elves who had stayed. They were eager to help, and many of their abilities lent themselves to reconstruction and rejuvenation. Plus, it was good PR; anyone who met an elf was hard pressed to imagine that they’d done what they did of their own free will. In short, the kingdom was healing quickly. So Nozel wasn’t surprised when Jack and Yami, obviously bored, started commentating. Usually he would be irritated; but he was already irritated, and he needed to find his notes anyway. He let the other captains prattle on while he dug up his report notes from a drawer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The usual captain banter bought him plenty of time. He had his notes ready when his turn came around. “Silver Eagle surveillance of the eastern border from the tenth to the twenty-fourth went smoothly. The locals note that the unusual thrumming in the night returns occasionally, and my knights back that up, but it does not coincide with any malicious phenomena.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you snoring, real bad, braidface?” Yami teased. “They got nose strips for that, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel’s eyes narrowed on his notes. “A dungeon mission on the fifteenth returned two magic items, which were submitted to the Department of Magic Research for evaluation. I have yet to receive word on them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused. Usually Marx, who kept close tabs on the Department of Magic Research, would chime in with a note. When he didn’t, Nozel looked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone was oddly silent and staring at one of their portals; all Nozel knew for certain was that they weren’t staring at his. Irritation poked at him like a nail in his heel. He cleared his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A vein bulged in his temple. He leered at his paper and continued. “Knights report an increase in armed bandits in the southeast. Casualties are low but property damage is high-- am I interrupting something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlotte and Kaiser spared him a passive glance, but everybody else’s eyes stayed glued on whatever had them so vexxed. Charlotte finally shifted, cleared her throat, and said, “Fuegoleon, are you aware that there is something under your cloak?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Crimson Lion captain straightened, a look of innocent surprise coloring his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like you’re on a couch too,” Yami said. “Did you even leave your castle?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon made that face he always made before he was about to lie very badly. “I… intended to…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait! We can attend these meetings from home? I left my studio for this!” Rill cried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marx frowned. “You’re not supposed to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s under there?” Jack demanded, smiling devilishly. He raised a bladed arm. “Do you have a parasite? I could take care of that for you! Keke!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon bristled, taking the offer entirely literally. “You will do no such thing!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A grumpy wail rose from under his cloak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel’s stomach dropped into his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that?” Kaiser grimaced, somewhere between disgusted and sympathetic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon shifted nervously. The lump under his robe shifted more. “I…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> that?” From the look on her face, Charlotte assumed the worst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel stared Fuegoleon down like he could sear a hole right through his stupid sexy head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the idiot wasn’t looking at his portal. His cheeks turned an embarrassed pink as his cloak parted, and his son poked his head out, blinking the sleep out of his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The captains gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A baby,” Kaiser guffawed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, how precious! Congratulations!” William cheered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon put up a hand in a plaintiff gesture. “He fell asleep on me, and I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where the hell did you get a kid?” Jack hissed. “Have you been hiding him like you’ve been hiding your wife?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Charlotte’s brow furrowed. “Fuegoleon isn’t married.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like hell he isn’t, I’ve seen his wedding ring!” Yami yelled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The meeting descended into madness. Nozel didn’t blink for a solid minute, watching Fuegoleon try and fail to quietly shift the child out of frame while the other captains argued about his marital status. The moment the baby was pulled out of his lap, he started to wail. The meeting descended upon Fuegoleon like pride of angry lions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t make him cry!” Jack snapped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, did we wake him up? Maybe you should step out,” William said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nobody’s going anywhere! We are not done with this meeting!” Marx hollered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorothy laughed so hard she screamed. Yami and Kaiser stared on in rapt suspense like they were watching a play, but not the same one. Charlotte and Rill were helplessly confused. Scrambling to recover, Fuegoleon snatched the baby up and hugged him to his chest. His wails quieted to sniffles, and content, he peered up at the portals.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he your nephew?” Jack persisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why the hell do you care so much, bean pole?” Yami asked. He leaned back and lit a cigarette.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but I’m not at liberty to discuss it right now,” Fuegoleon said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Captain Fuegoleon,” Marx huffed. “If we could all get back on topic… Captain Nozel, would you like to finish your report?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now we gotta figure out who his wife is,” Yami muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel clenched his jaw as he leered at his paper. He continued his report to a distracted audience, only to be interrupted on his last bullet point by a quiet but enthusiastic “Bah!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence coming from the portals was suddenly very focused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel lifted his eyes like he was looking into the face of an executioner. All ten viewers were staring at him. The baby, in Fuegoleon’s arms, was pointing at him. To the captains’ growing excitement, he wiggled his finger, looked to Fuegoleon, and said “Baba!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon looked from him, to Nozel, to him, to Nozel-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aaaw, how cute!” Rill cooed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It knows you, fussy braid?” Yami scratched his head. “Well, shit. Are you his wife?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yami, there’s no need to be rude,” Kaiser chided. “But… What is going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dorothy was back to scream laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone, please! We all have things to do! Can we just get through this meeting?” Marx begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know something about this, don’t you? Huh, Unsworth?” Jack jabbed a finger at Dorothy’s portal. “Tell us!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marx put his hands up. “Captains, I’m sure that Fuegoleon and Nozel can explain this once we’re fini-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel whipped up his hand, and a spear of mercury shot through the portal. Marx’s voice fizzled out, and the others followed as the portals burst into light. Rising from his desk, Nozel pushed through the magic static still in the air and scuttled out of his office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nebra cut him off mere steps from the building’s exit. He stopped short, nearly running headlong into her. To his surprise, she looked like she would have let him. “Nozel,” she said, voice low and angry, “You have got to do something about the press. I waited until noon. Now do something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t an exaggeration to say he had no idea what she was talking about. “I will handle it later,” he said, side stepping her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! I have been patient! Wait!” She cut him off again, arms stretched wide to block his path. “When? When are you going to do something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have things to attend to! Get out of my way!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nebra’s mana boiled around her, throwing up her hair in angry ripples. “If you do not do something about this by the end of the day, brother, so help me…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shoved past her and marched down the private road. Nebra’s glare burning into his back wasn’t even a plink on his mental radar. He had to do damage control.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hopefully now you have an idea of what the Clover Kingdom looks like in this universe! If you don't, feel free to ask-- it's not super important in this story (the whole Julius mystery is only a subplot), but it's kind of neat what we're doing behind the scenes. It comes up in other projects much more, and I can point you towards those if you're interested.</p><p>Oh boy, next Nozel does damage control! I'm sure he'll do a very good job with that. Aren't you?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Temporary Lunacy is Nothing to Lose Sleep Over</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nozel makes another visit to House Vermillion, this time with a solution to their problems. Fuegoleon isn't sold. Nebra isn't either.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I wish all my titles could be as good as this one. We may have peaked, ladies, gaydies, and theydies. Time will tell. </p>
<p>I keep meaning to say this one my other chapters, but your comments really are getting me through the harsh winter. Please keep them up. I love you all very much.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Lord Nozel is here to see you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon looked at the servant with a frown. After his violent exit from the captain’s meeting, he’d expected a visit from his rival. He had to admit, he’d failed to be inconspicuous about the baby. If it weren’t for Marx’s insistence on order, he probably would have dug himself a deeper hole, but he was pretty sure that the situation could be salvaged. Nozel would be glad to hear that. “Show him in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His son looked up at him, expression curious as he chewed on a wooden block. To Fuegoleon’s relief, he hadn’t caused too much trouble at the meeting. All things considered, the baby had a good time sitting in. The captains’ banter had gotten him giggling more than once, so at least he was in a good mood. And only Marx seemed truly bothered by his presence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door opened, and Nozel strolled in. Fuegoleon worked to keep his expression steady, because he looked bad. When he’d seen him in the morning, Nozel looked tired and cranky, but that wasn’t all that rare; he was a notoriously poor sleeper, and the party from the night before had probably worn him out. Now, he looked like he hadn’t slept in days: visible bags under his eyes, movements slow but jerky, bangs puffed like a startled owl. Now Fuegoleon wished he’d paid a little more attention to his appearance during the meeting. He didn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’d been up to since their morning discussion, but it looked like it’d been a lot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Their son tossed his block aside, rolled onto his hands and knees, and scampered across the floor as fast as his pudgy legs could take him. He planted his butt right on Nozel’s feet and grinned up at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was almost enough to make Nozel cry. He scooped the baby into his arms and held him close. The boy rested his head on his shoulder as he crossed the room to Fuegoleon. “We need to discuss this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” he said. “Were you able to learn anything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not much, but it shouldn’t be dangerous,” he replied, combing his fingers through the baby’s strawberry blond locks. “So the issue now is smoothing over the mess you’ve made.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s brow furrowed. “It was… uncouth to show him to the other captains, but it wasn’t a mess. Things did not escalate after you left.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am talking about the bigger picture, Fuegoleon. We cannot have a bastard child linked to us. A marriage is in order.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All thoughts in the works came to a screeching halt. Fuegoleon stared at him, blinking stupidly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean you and Nebra, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” His mind started up again like a rickety wind-up toy. “I… I guess wouldn’t be entirely opposed to that… As long as Nebra agrees.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel stared at him like he’d spoken gibberish. Fuegoleon stared awkwardly back, not sure what they were waiting for. The baby gave Nozel’s braid a pull, coaxing him out of his mental block.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Nebra? Your sister?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know who Nebra is!” he said shortly. “I am asking why she would have a problem with this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it’s… it’s an arranged marriage…” Once again he wondered if he had missed something. This seemed pretty straightforward to him. “And with what the papers are printing…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do the papers have to do with this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon eyed him sideways. No, he wasn’t missing anything here; this was a Nozel problem. And whatever was wrong with him, this was exacerbating it. “Nozel, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I think that you should take some time to think this through.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought this through,” he snarled. “This is how we’ll fix this. It is the only way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I disagree. And I think that with some time to think about it, you might, too.” At the risk of losing his other arm, he set his hands on his rival’s shoulders and guided him to a sit on the couch.  “If you think this is such a good idea, we can discuss it, maybe after dinner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s eyes narrowed. He shifted his grip carefully-- to avoid jostling the baby --and looked at his watch. It was closer to dinner time than lunch. He hadn’t even felt the time passing. Had he eaten today? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s consternation grew; the look on the Silva’s face was getting wilder. But somehow, it must not have been seeping into his body; the baby was half-asleep on his shoulder, lids fluttering shut while he sucked his thumb. “I have an idea,” Fuegoleon said, leaping at the opportunity. “I will discuss this with Nebra. In the meantime, you stay with Leocadio-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With </span>
  <em>
    <span>who?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leocadio. That is what I’d like to call him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel eyed the child pensively, rolling that around in his mind. It didn’t roll easy, but nothing did right now. It was a mouthful… All Vermillion names were… but it could be shortened…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking his silence for acceptance, Fuegoleon moved on. “Stay with him. He’s napping… maybe you could nap, too. Then we can convene this evening.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re putting me down for a nap like a child,” he accused, face scrunching up like an angry toddler’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not! Are you going to hand him off? You’d wake him if you did!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, Nozel looked down at his son. He was nestled against him so comfortably, and his little face was so peaceful… No, even being so tightly wound that he was ready to implode, Nozel didn’t think he could. “Fine,” he scoffed. “I will sit here with… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Leocadio</span>
  </em>
  <span> while you discuss this with Nebra, but it’s entirely unnecessary. Don’t keep me waiting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon let out a satisfied hum and grabbed the decorative blanket from the back of the couch. He tossed it over the two of them (to Nozel’s offense) and then he headed for the door. “Rest well. I will return shortly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Bastard,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Nozel thought spitefully, pulling the blanket up to the baby’s shoulders. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who does he think I am? Putting me down for a nap. I am Nozel Silva of the Silver eagles.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He shifted a pillow closer to him, just for his back. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’ve fought for days straight to keep my country safe, and he thinks I need a nap? This is nothing. Clearly I am the only one taking this seriously. This situation will fall apart without me. I am the thread holding the royal houses together.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five minutes later, he was drooling on the pillow.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Nebra was not happy to see him, and Fuegoleon wasn’t surprised about that. But after some quiet insisting, she did allow him into her sitting room. The door was locked; the curtains were drawn. Nebra sat in a lounge chair, legs crossed, a cup of tea in her hands, glaring at him so venomously that he actually started to feel a little sick. He was not offered a cup of tea. She didn’t say a word. The message was obvious: start talking or get out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon shifted in his seat and tried to remember his script. He’d taken his time getting here to mentally write one. “Nebra. You’re looking well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, am I? Last I read, I looked like a harlot.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grimaced. “Yes, well… papers are designed to sell, not tell the truth…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want, Fuegoleon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I came to discuss this situation with you. Nozel and I have been in contact, but since you’re the one in the public eye, I didn’t think that we should be making any decisions without consulting you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra’s eyes narrowed. She took a slow, thoughtful sip of her tea. “Where is Nozel?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He is currently with the baby.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course he is,” she muttered. “Well, maybe this visit wasn’t all for naught. Can you tell me what is going on? Because he has not spoken a coherent word to me since this started.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s… an interesting question.” He racked his brain for a way to say ‘He’s out of his mind’ without being so direct about it. “He seems to be under a lot of pressure, and it is clouding his judgement.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Under a lot of pressure?” She set down her tea cup and sat up straight. “He called me a whore in front of a room full of people, and kicked me out of my own home, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> is under a lot of pressure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A bead of sweat welled on his temple. “Certainly not the same kind of pressure-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is he thinking? Is he thinking at all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s an interesting question as well.” He internally cringed. That didn’t come out the way he wanted it to. “He’s doing his best.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra stared at him in baffled disbelief. “And what’s going on? Why don’t you start at the beginning?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he did: His discovery of the baby, his note to Nozel, their meeting that morning, the captain’s meeting, their meeting that afternoon. For happening over the course of 24 hours, it sure had been a lot. He edited some details out; the chaos of the captain’s meeting, Nozel’s departure from it, the specifics of their conversation that afternoon; and focused on Nozel’s frenzied state of mind instead, before concluding by saying that he was with the baby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra listened, completely absorbed. When his tale concluded, she looked unsatisfied. “Well. If anything were to drive him to madness, that would be the thing to do it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He frowned, unsure how to respond to that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But answer something for me. Why did he come to see you again? Was he trying to say something and just couldn’t get the words out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s eyes shifted away. He cracked his knuckles and planted his hands on his knees. “Well, he did have something to say, but I don’t believe that he has all the important details to say it with clarity.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra cocked a brow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think that he’s seen anything circulating in the news.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes widened. “You… You’re joking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He glanced at her with an apologetic frown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra stared, letting that sink in. As much as it pissed her off, she could believe it; he hadn’t eaten breakfast with them this morning, where they usually discussed the news. And he’d been at the Silver Eagles base only long enough for this captain’s meeting. Then, from the sound of it, he’d run around like a scared rabbit all day. Nothing else could explain his dismissal of her situation. She picked up her tea and took a long sip to keep herself from calling her brother something she shouldn’t in polite company. “I see. So. Knowing that, what did he say?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon steeled himself. “He suggested that in order to rectify this situation with the baby, we-- that is, you and I --get married.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The proposal hung in the silent air. Slowly, Nebra pressed her fingertips together, brought them to her mouth, and leaned forward. “He… He said that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nebra’s voice shook. “That was his solution.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frowning nervously, he nodded again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her shoulders trembled. “And he was serious?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon held up a hand. “Nebra, if the idea upsets you-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She burst into laughter like it’d been punched out of her. Pressing her hands to her face, she cackled until she turned red. Fuegoleon sat, staring at her like a startled cat while she laughed herself breathless. “You know,” she said, wiping a tear, “this was something of a fantasy of mine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s eyebrows rose. This was giving him whiplash. “It was?... Does that mean that you’ll accept?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She burbled with laughter as she plucked a tissue off the end table and dabbed her eyes. “No. Get out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Embarrassment set in, hot and heavy. Head bowed, he rose from his chair and walked to the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Fuegoleon?” she giggled. “You said that Nozel was at House Vermillion with the baby?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He peered over his shoulder. “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell him to stay there. He’s out of House Silva.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Woah! What? Did I get at least some of you with a plot twist? Probably not. I'm not trying that hard.</p>
<p>This day is almost over, but not quite yet. I have one more straw to throw on Nozel's back before he breaks.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. And They Were Roommates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After an embarrassing encounter at House Vermillion, a conversation with his siblings gives Nozel an idea.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The first half of this chapter was one of the first ever Fuegozel things I wrote. This series wasn't even a twinkle in my eye then... Anyway, it's been rewritten, but if it's got a different feel than other chapters, it's because it's got some 2019 flavor.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nozel wandered the dark halls, the soft sound of his slippers on the tile floor his only company. The tall, narrow windows weren’t letting in much light tonight; the sky was overcast. Heavy wind pressed against the outside walls, reaching the inner chambers as an insistent whisper. The smell of rain soon to come permeated the halls. Usually on a night like this, Nozel loved to press his shoulder to the window and savor the unsettled weather. But he got no such satisfaction out of it tonight.</p><p>He’d been woken in the evening very rudely by Fuegoleon telling him that Nebra had refused his proposal, and then flinging a newspaper in his face. That was when he got his first look at the cover story of <em> The Clover Weekly, </em> which was, to his horror, all about him publicly defaming his sister.</p><p>He honestly wouldn’t have blamed Nebra if she’d had him assassinated in his sleep. But she hadn’t, so he tried to go talk to her. And the feelings of regret and humility that were pushing their way through his emotionally constipated heart came to a dead stop when he found that he could not get into House Silva. The guards wouldn’t let him in. His keys didn’t work in the doors. The servants pretended they didn’t see him. Nozel had never faced such a swift overhaul in security in his life. And Nebra, no doubt the mastermind behind it, would not answer for her crimes. All she did was stand, T posing in the window of her sitting room, as he yelled demands at her. If he wasn’t so mad that he could cry, he would have been impressed with her efficiency.</p><p>It was good that Fuegoleon had offered him a bed at House Vermillion before he’d left, because if he hadn’t, Nozel couldn’t be sure that he would have had the mental clarity to think to ask. He’d been so mad that as soon as he got back to House Vermillion, he’d passed out in his guest bed and slept through dinner. And now he was here: awake in the middle of the night, pissed off, <em> still </em> hung over, and wandering the halls of a castle that was not his.</p><p>He sucked in a breath of rainy air and trudged down the dark hall. As he reached the other end, the rain started to fall. After wandering around for hours, he was finally starting to feel tired. Now he thought he could sleep off the rest of this hangover. Eyes half-lidded, he let his fingers brush the wall as he waited for his door knob to fall under it. He misjudged the distance by a lot; his memory of House Vermillion was pretty fuzzy, especially in the dark. It wasn’t like he and Fuegoleon had had any sleepovers in the last fifteen years. He should have counted steps.</p><p>By the time the door knob fell under his hand, he felt like he had run miles. He trudged to the bed, slipped off his slippers, and crawled in. The mattress was still too firm, and the sheets were still too rumpled, but now he was too tired to care. He turned his back on his troubles and let sleep drag him under.</p><p>
  <b>✥---✥</b>
</p><p>Nozel was jarred from sleep by the sun turning the inside of his eyelids red. His face twisted into a tired glower, and he turned away from the light. Morning had come <em> way </em> too fast; he was not ready to be awake. When he moved, the bed under him shifted like he’d thrown himself on it. Another simple mediocrity of House Vermillion.</p><p>Sleep was just out of reach; if he held very still, he could recapture it and get a few more blessed hours of peace. He chased it, willing himself to fall back into a peaceful slumber. But something on the edge of his consciousness pulled back. And its steady, insistent tug soon solidified into a sound. One he couldn’t ignore.</p><p>“Nozel.”</p><p><em> Absolutely barbaric, </em> he thought with vitriol. Was it common in House Vermillion for servants to waltz into one’s room and wake them up by first name? He should kill them. It would be within his right. But he was too tired to follow through on it, justified or not. “Go away,” he snarled, pressing his face into his pillow.</p><p>“Nozel!”</p><p>“What?” The word hiccupped from him in the very instant his rage met wakefulness. Some semblance of recognition tugged at him. This voice was familiar, and he never made an effort to remember a servant. No, this was not a servant’s voice. And this was not a pillow his face was buried in. And these were not covers under his body.</p><p>A hand gripped his arm, careful but firm. He tensed, his mind doing the mental acrobatics to put together that from the angle of the grip, the hand could not belong to someone who was not in the bed with him.</p><p>Now he was awake enough to pay attention to mana. And there was a lot of it. That wasn’t his. He was absolutely surrounded by it. Enveloped in it.</p><p>“Wake up.”</p><p>Nozel’s insides liquified. Slowly, he turned his head. He knew what he was about to see, but that didn’t stop the Kill Bill sirens from going off in his head. He was nose-to-nose with Fuegoleon Vermillion: eyes meeting, bodies overlapping, breath mingling in front of them. Nozel was lying on the fire mage’s chest, his head practically nestled into the crook of his neck. His hand was against his amble pec, slipped partially under his pajama top. Fuegoleon’s hand was around his arm, his grip looking like he wasn’t sure if he should stop at shake him awake or fling him off the bed while he was at it.</p><p>Nozel didn’t know if time actually slowed, but he took his sweet time processing what the hell was happening. Because first, he couldn’t believe that Fuegoleon had woken up looking like this. His skin? Perfect; spotless; sunkissed tan, ever so slightly rosy. His hair, disheveled in the handsomest way, pooling around his shoulders like water, with a slight curl that the public never saw. His eyes? Clear, shining, sharp as a knife; not a lick of sleep in violet irises. His lips? <em> Oh, </em> his lips… parted in quiet confusion, inches from his. He could have so easily leaned in and...</p><p>All this was so much that Nozel almost missed that Fuegoleon’s heart was pounding under the palm of his hand. If he’d been a little less conscious, he easily could have missed it. His was hammering just as hard. He could feel it in the skin of his face, already cherry red. </p><p>What a hot mess.</p><p>Fuegoleon made a sound that must have been an attempt at a throat clear. His eyes darted around Nozel’s red face without returning to his eyes. Color bled into his cheeks like a cloth soaking up red wine. “Will you please move?”</p><p>His voice was a husky whisper that threatened to shake a shudder out of Nozel. He leapt out of bed like a cat encountering a cucumber and landed in a clumsy stand, nearly losing his balance and faceplanting right into Fuegoleon’s open, waiting lap. The thought was enough to rob him of any blooming common sense. “What-- What are you doing in my room!?”</p><p>If the color in his face hadn’t reached his hairline already, it definitely did when Fuegoleon sat up, and his pajama top fell open. All the way open. Already askew from Nozel’s handiwork, it slipped off his right shoulder and fell around his waist, revealing his perfectly sculpted pecs, washboard abs, and deep v-lines, which disappeared under his low-riding pants with a light dusting of red hair. Flames roared to life at his shoulder, and eyes never leaving Nozel, he pulled the tunic back around him. “This is <em> my </em> room.”</p><p>Nozel stared at him, the glorious image of his rival’s half-naked body burned into his retinas. Once he was sure he would have the memory forever, he looked around: the west-facing window letting in an obscene amount of light; the open closet with Vermillion robes; the mana-controlled candles along the walls. Yep. That all checked out. This was Fuegoleon’s room.</p><p>Words escaped him. This was not the type of situation that Nozel was equipped to deal with on his own. He could almost hear Nebra’s voice, as if she was in the room, observing this mess: <em> Rest in pieces, bitch. </em></p><p>Both men startled when a soft whine rose from somewhere in the room. Fuegoleon whirled around, groping the sheets until he found Leocadio, pouting at him from the little nest of pillows that Fueogleon had built for him. The baby had fallen asleep while he was reading <em> An Extended History of the Witch’s Forest </em> to him. Fuegoleon had decided that it wouldn’t hurt to let him sleep in the bed. After waking up with a third party in bed, he’d almost forgotten about him. He scooped him up and the baby settled down quickly. Then he turned back to Nozel. “Are you…”</p><p>There was no one there.</p><p>Nozel’s flight response took him all the way to the Silva garden. In an adrenaline-fueled rage, he’d sprinted from Fuegoleon’s room, found his own, changed, and then hauled ass all the there. Waking up in the arms of an unrequited crush who he’d tried to betroth to his sister was the last mistake he was going to make in House Vermillion, and if he had to tear apart his castle to get into it, well, that’s why contractors existed. But when he stopped to catch his breath, it occurred to him that a window would probably be easier to break than a wall, especially if he was just going to hurl his defenseless body through it like he’d originally planned. But thankfully, his adrenaline had run out, and now he was leaning onto his knees, heaving like a wild-eyed, wired, very gay commoner, who did not think that defenstration was a good plan either. </p><p>“Big brother!”</p><p>His head shot up at the sound of a very familiar stage whisper. On the third floor of the castle, Solid leaned out of an open window, smiling at him. He waved his hand. “Hey! Up here!”</p><p>Nozel forced himself to straighten, brow furrowed.</p><p>“Come on! I’ll let you in!”</p><p>His eyebrows rose. Righteous fury gave way to relief. He should have known that his little brother would take his side in all this. A mercury disk formed under his feet and lifted him to the window. </p><p>Solid pushed it open as wide as it would go and then backed up, waving urgently. “Come on, hurry up! Before she sees you!”</p><p>He was moving as fast as he could, which wasn’t very fast since he was shaking with fatigue. The window wasn’t going to be an easy one to get through: it wasn’t big, and didn’t open very wide. But Nozel was flexible. As long as he didn’t lose his grip, he should be fine. He placed his hands on the sill and poised to jump through, when another window opened farther down the wall.</p><p>Nebra leaned out, making a face like she smelled something rotten. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”</p><p>Solid poked his head out. “Ah shit.”</p><p>“What part of ‘you’re out of the house’ didn’t you understand? Get out of here!” Nebra snarled, clutching the window sill like she might leap at him.</p><p>Nozel released the window sill and stood straight. Luckily his mercury pedestal was gyroscopic enough to hide his shaking legs. “Nebra, don’t be ridiculous. I am the head of House Silva. This is my castle. You can’t kick me out of it. Now let me in so we can discuss this like adults.”</p><p>Nebra barked out a laugh. “Oh, were we going to ‘discuss this like adults’ after you break in through Solid’s window? Kiss my ass, Nozel.”</p><p>Solid squirmed. “Nebra, I don’t think-”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up, Solid.”</p><p>“Look. Mistakes were made, but that’s no reason to lose our heads,” Nozel said empirically. “And that is no reason to dismiss resolutions that are in the best interest of everyone.”</p><p>“Is <em> that </em> what you call marrying me off to Fuegoleon? My best interest?” Her mana rolled off her in threatening waves. “Last I checked, you were the one who ruined my life! Fuegoleon isn’t going to fix it!”</p><p>Solid looked like he’d been punched in the face. “Wait, what?”</p><p>“I did not ruin your life! If you would just cooperate with my plan-”</p><p>“No! I’m not going to be the scapegoat for you sucking your rival’s dick so hard that you got pregnant! Kiss my! Entire! Ass!” She ducked back inside and slammed the window shut.</p><p>Solid paled. “Wait, what? Did you really do that, brother? Wait, I don’t want to know-”</p><p>Nozel flopped to a sit on his disk, staring at the ground miserably.</p><p>“No, but wait, is that what happened? Who got who pregnant?”</p><p>“Nobody got anybody pregnant,” he muttered, running his hand through his messy hair.</p><p>“...Then what <em> did </em> happen? Nebra says there’s a baby, but it’s not hers? Is it yours?” He rested his arms on the windowsill and peered down at Nozel with a frown. “Who’s its mother?”</p><p>“It doesn’t…” He trailed off. An idea struck him like a bolt of lightning, and he leapt to his feet and gripped the window. “Solid, that’s it!”</p><p>Solid shrank. “What’s it?”</p><p>“It’s so obvious! I just have to find her. I will not be in the office today. Tell Nebra.” The disk at his feet expanded to a silver eagle, and he dropped to a kneel as it rose into the sky and zoomed away.</p><p>Solid leaned out the window, his voice growing more confused with each word. “What’s it, brother? Where are you going? What do I tell Nebra!?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Solid is *really* trying his best to be a good brother. To his credit, he's doing a good job, even if he doesn't feel like it right now. What happens next can only marginally be tied back to him.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Ambushed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nozel enacts his ingenious plan.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Where is she? Where is she!? </em>
</p><p>A titanic monster of stone and earth rose to its full height, blotting out the sun. It threw back its lumpy, bulbous head and let out a fierce roar. Then, lumbering forward, it raised the stump that remained of its destroyed arm. The ground shook as earth shifted to reform the lost limb, and it slammed its gangling arm into the ground.</p><p>Nozel’s silver eagle zoomed out from under the attack seconds before the muddy fist collided with the ground. The beast’s arm almost caught him as it swung back up, and he clutched to his eagle’s back as it made a sharp turn. When he was out of its reach he whirled around, palm extended. <em> Mercury Magic: Silver Spear! </em></p><p>Mercury shot from his hand, forming a long, razor-sharp spear. It bore into the amalgamation’s body before expanding rapidly. The creature let out a garbled roar as its chest burst, sending dirt and stone flying in every direction. Nozel crouched low as he maneuvered through the debris, and then, more importantly, the collapsing form of the earth giant. It hit the ground with thunderous force, shaking the birds from the trees and sending the earth quaking. Its form fell apart, and it was reduced to a mountain of rubble.</p><p>Nozel dropped to one knee, watching the slain earth as he caught his breath. He could already sense its magic power reforming. The rubble began to shake, and slowly, it came together, rising from the ground for the fifth time. Nozel’s eagle backed away. He prepared another attack, gritting his teeth. <em> She’s STILL not here? How long am I going to have to fight this thing? </em></p><p>As the beast grew legs, it was struck by a ball of fire, passing through it like a bullet from a gun. Mid-air it changed direction and burst through its head, sending what was left of the creature to the ground. The heat radiating from the vitriolic orb boiled the moisture out of the earth, and the creature sizzled as the ball shot high into the air, doubled in size, and plunged toward the creature like a falling meteor. It burst into ash on impact, and the ball of fire hit the ground with a deafening crash. The ground caved in under it and dust and ash rose into the air like a tsunami.</p><p>Nozel put up an arm, blinking dust from his lashes. <em> It’s about fucking time, </em> he grumbled internally, flying higher to survey the forest. It didn’t take long to find what he was looking for: Meoroleona rooting through the blackened remains of the beast, a red dot pawing through a sea of black. She finally plunged her hand into a thick pile of ash, and pulled out a ruddy, clay-red stone. With a victorious smirk, she crushed it to dust. Then she put her ashy hands on her hips, tilted her head back, and smirked at him. “Not bad, metalhead. Not good, but not bad.”</p><p>“Meoroleona.” Pushing himself to his feet, he lowered his eagle to the ground, where it vanished. Ash swirled at his feet as the air settled, but he’d landed beyond the crater. He didn’t intend to get any dirtier than he had to for this.</p><p>Meoroleona paid the ash no mind, letting her wild, powerful mana kick it up as she marched across the charred ground to stand before him. “You should do some real training with me. This thing was nothing.”</p><p>“The offer is appreciated, but-”</p><p>A high-pitched shriek cut the air behind him behind him. A weight landed on the back of his head. Nozel barely caught himself before he hit the ground face-first. He rolled, his hand catching the shrieking creature by the back of the neck and ripping it from his shoulders. A mercury spear formed in his other hand as he held it over his head, but he stopped in his tracks when instead of a squealing monkey or a rabid racoon, he was staring into the face of a child. She grinned like she’d been caught hiding, pointed at him, and giggled, “Haha! I got you!”</p><p>Meoroleona chuckled and caught the little girl by the sash of her tunic, yanking her out of Nozel’s hand and placing her on her feet at her side. She patted her on the head. “That settles it. You’ve let yourself go. You need training. That’s why you’re here, right?”</p><p>Nozel jumped to his feet, dusting the ash off his clothes as he stared down at the child. She was about five, with strawberry blond hair pulled back in a fluffy ponytail, a soft round face tanned from the sun, and a straight, narrow nose. Her bright blue eyes were outlined in Vermillion red. She was wearing Vermillion robes, which were filthy from the dirt and ash. She must have been hiding on the periphery of his battle with the earth beast.</p><p>“Who… is that?” Nozel’s eyes jumped from the girl to Meoroleona.</p><p>“This?” She planted her hand on the girl’s head. “This is Ellie.”</p><p>He stared, waiting for more.</p><p>Meoroleona’s hand formed a fist, and she brought it to rest on the base of Nozel’s braid. He flinched, but forced himself to stay still as she looked him up and down. “You look like shit. What’s the matter with you?”</p><p>Nozel grimaced. He was sure he was dirty, but he didn’t look <em> that </em> bad. He had gotten at least a half night’s sleep before he came here, and he was groomed and clean before he’d antagonized the earth beast into a fight. “That’s a polite way to greet an old friend.”</p><p>“I call them as I see them. As long as you don’t die while you’re with me.” She flicked the end of his braid and dropped her hand to her side. “So. Why are you here?”</p><p>His gaze shifted from Meoroleona to this strange child-- Ellie --and without any help, he did some mental acrobatics of his own. Interesting. Maybe important. Not a priority. Resolute, he turned back to the lioness. “I have come here to ask you something, Meoroleona.”</p><p>Curiosity shined in her blue eyes. “Yeah? What’s that?”</p><p>He reached into his pocket, dropped to one knee, and held up an open velvet box. Inside shined a diamond ring. “Will you marry me?”</p><p>The forest went deathly silent. Meoroleona and Ellie stared at the ring in incredulous silence; the girl straining under Meoroleona’s hand to get a closer look, Meoroleona processing dozens of emotions at light speed. Finally, she threw her head back and roared with laughter. The trees shook with it; birds in the distance squawked and fled into the air. Ellie put her hands on her hips and laughed, too. </p><p>Nozel slowly lowered his hands, shrinking under the booming sound. He closed the box and returned it to his pocket. This was, after all, what he’d expected.</p><p>Meoroleona’s hand closed around his slim wrist before it got there. She loomed over him with a wide, toothy grin. “I accept.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Looks like we're all set up for a lavender marriage! There is no possible way this could be a bad thing, right? Yeah.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. For Honor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Vermillions and the Silvas process the fallout of Nozel's proposal.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was a pretty fun chapter to write, because I got to take the obvious reactions of "Um, what the fuck" and turn them into proper conversations. Some chapters do take on a more serious tone from this point on, but don't worry, this is all still ridiculous at its core. I could never forget my roots.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Let me get a look at you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lion’s paw latched onto Leocadio’s head, lifting him off the floor. The baby let out a surprised whoop as he met Mereoleona’s eyes, body dangling like a sack of potatoes. She looked him over like she was assessing the quality of a slab of meat. Then she caught him under the armpits, plucking him out of her own spell, and tossed him in the air. He landed back in her arms with a startled laugh. “Yeah, he could pass for mine!”</span>
</p><p><span>Fuegoleon wasn’t paying attention. He was still staring, open-mouthed, at the front page of </span><em><span>The</span></em> <em><span>Clover Weekly.</span></em><span> On the front cover was a picture of Nozel and his sister, hand-in-hand, making an announcement at the front steps of House Silva. </span><em><span>Nozel Silva and Mereoleona Vermillion to be Married</span></em><span>, read the headline. And only three days since Nozel told him to marry Nebra.</span></p><p>
  <span>Two little hands gripped his knees, and while he still gaped at the newspaper, Mereoleona’s little girl wiggled into his lap. She sat there for a second, trying to catch his eye, before she turned around and looked at the newspaper. Her finger landed on Mereoleona’s image, crinkling the paper. “Look, Mommy, it’s you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, it’s me.” She tucked Leocadio under her arm and strolled to the table, leaning over her brother’s shoulder. “Can you tell I was crushing his hand in that picture? I think he was too tired to notice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mereo, what is going on?” He dropped the newspaper onto the table and glared up at her. “This is completely unlike both of you. You don’t-- he isn’t-- well, it doesn’t make any sense. And-!” He gestured wildly to Ellie, who smiled up at him innocently. “What about her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you. That’s Ellie.” She shrugged, an explanation beyond her, and shifted Leocadio to an almost-appropriate hold, cradled in the crook of her arm. “Anyway, Nozel said that he had to right some wrong, and this was the only way to do it, and politics, public appearances, yadda yadda. Obviously he’s out of his mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously.” He bit his tongue; that was not a very nice thing to say sincerely about his rival. But at this point, he didn’t know how else to explain this. “Why did you agree? You don’t care about public appearances or politics.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grinned. “I want to see how far he’ll take this. He’ll come to his senses before we go through with it. You don’t think he’d actually marry me, do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s lips formed a hard line. If he’d been asked a week ago, he would have said ‘Absolutely not’. But with the way Nozel had been acting since Leocadio appeared, he wasn’t so sure. He looked back at the article again. In Nozel’s announcement, he claimed that this marriage was him righting the wrong he had committed by inaccurately labelling Nebra as the cause for this bastard child. If everything he’d done up to this hadn’t been so ridiculous, it would almost be a good logic. “But Leocadio isn’t yours. It’s disingenuous,” he persisted. “Do you really want to be labelled a harlot for a child that’s not even yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, but I’ve already got one.” She reached around him to pat Ellie on the head, and she leaned into her hand like a touch-starved cat. “So what’s one more?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s dis-in-genie-us mean?” Ellie asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It means Uncle Fuego doesn’t like me marrying Nozel,” Mereoleona replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s perturbed gaze turned to Ellie. The little girl was obviously a Vermillion, and Mereoleona made it clear that she was hers. But she’d offered no hint at who her father-- or, maybe more accurately, her other parent-- was. At this point Fuegoleon was afraid to ask. Since he was sure that his sister hadn’t been pregnant five years ago, he had to assume that Ellie had appeared in the same inexplicable manner that Leocadio had. As always, he had to admit that there was a method to his sister’s madness: Ellie and Leocadio could easily pass for siblings instead of cousins. But that was beside the point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leocadio is </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> son,” he said, snatching the baby from her arms. “I don’t intend to give him up so that Nozel can save face.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I wouldn’t expect you to,” she said, crossing her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked, taken aback. “You don’t?... Then why did you agree to marry him!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he’s not going to go through with it!” she hollered, punching him in the head. “If you’re so worried about it, why don’t you tell him? I could move aside and let you marry him instead!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That-- That’s not…” He rubbed his head, cheeks coloring, as the kids laughed at him. He couldn’t explain the molten ball of anger forming in his chest, and he couldn’t do anything about it with two babies in his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a knock on the door, and the wedding planner stepped into the room. “Lady Mereoleona, the seamstress is here to fit you and Lady Elleon for your dresses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Gotta go.” Mereoleona snatched Ellie out of Fuegoleon’s lap and tucked her under her arm. “Think about it!” She flashed him a smile and then followed the wedding planner out of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye, Uncle Fuego!” Ellie waved at him upside down as she was carried out of the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon sat there, red in the face, unsure what exactly he should be thinking about.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Nozel sat at his Silver Eagles desk, meticulously working through two tall stacks of envelopes and invitations. One by one he wrote a name on an envelope, sealed it shut, and set it to his other side. The stack was actually very short for a royal wedding; no nobles outside their closest friends and family-- both literally and figuratively --were invited. The friend list was short; not that either Nozel or Mereoleona had many to invite. There would be plenty of hurt feelings after the wedding, but Nozel had convinced Mereoleona to pretend that they had been dating in secret for years, and “Save the Date” letters had been sent out six months ago. They would tell anyone who wasn’t invited that they hadn’t RSVP’d.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a soft knock on his door, followed by Solid’s voice. “Brother? It’s us. Can we come in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d expected them sooner. The newspapers had been printing the story for a day and a half; but he had been hard to find yesterday. “Come in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In crept Solid and Nebra, looking less excited than he expected. He didn’t let them distract him from his work. They closed the door and sat down across his desk from him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Solid began, wringing his hands, “you’re getting married?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t make me answer stupid questions, Solid. I’m very busy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” Nebra curled her knuckle to her lip and watched him with a frown. “Okay, maybe this won’t sound so stupid: Why are you doing this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should think that you of all people would know the answer to that: damage control.” His eyes ticked to her. “I thought you’d be happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I said,” Solid agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her frown deepened. “I am not happy about this. We are not obligated to marry for political reasons. And if the story that Fuegoleon told me was true, this baby isn’t the result of anyone doing something they shouldn’t have.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but there is no way to explain that to the public, and an inaccurate story is already out.” His eyes returned to the envelopes. “What’s done is done. I have to fix my mistakes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nebra’s brow furrowed. “If you wanted me to forgive you, you could have started by saying you’re sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I am. I am sorry, Nebra.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three settled into a torn silence. Solid and Nebra exchanged a frown while Nozel kept on addressing envelopes. Nebra hadn’t expected to get an apology; she’d expected less to get one in both action and word. She’d expected even less to not like it if she did. Resolute, her pink eyes locked on her elder brother. “You should not marry Mereoleona,” she said seriously. “It won’t fix the mess you’ve already made, and you’ll be stuck in a marriage you don’t want. I do not approve.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re short-sighted,” he scoffed. “If there is no wedding, blame for Leocadio will fall directly back on you. Is that what you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but… What about Mereoleona? She can’t be happy about this arrangement.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you ever known Mereoleona to be forced into anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had her there. Nebra’s frown tipped into a frustrated scowl. She knew she was right. He had no reason to fight when it was to his own detriment. But she wouldn’t beg; she’d have to make a threat. “Brother, if you marry Mereoleona, you will have to live at House Vermillion. I will not let you come back to House Silva.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So be it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solid’s face fell. He glanced at Nebra from the corner of his eye, making a silent plea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chewed her lip. After a beat, she tried again. “If you go through with this wedding, I will not attend. You do not have my blessing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paused. Slowly, his gaze lifted from the envelopes to meet hers. His finger tapped on his pen, and then he resumed writing. “I want you to be there, but I don’t need your blessing to get married.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nebra threw up her hands and stood. “You’re making a mistake!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am doing what needs to be done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head, turned, and marched out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solid watched the door close behind her, and then looked back to Nozel. For several minutes he watched him work in silence, trying to figure out where his place was in all this. Then he said, “Brother, there are probably easier ways to apologize to Nebra.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t need anything, Solid, leave.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, got to his feet, and headed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel’s pen slowed. His eyes didn’t leave the envelope as he asked, “You will be at the wedding, won’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solid paused, his hand on the door knob. He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Yeah, I will.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sure some of you are wondering what Leo and Noelle are up to. Struggling to keep up, that's what they're doing. Not being glued to their siblings' hips means that they are a little behind the ones who are all one big royal amalgamation, and is definitely not me forgetting that Leo exists.</p><p>Seriously though, I didn't completely forget about them. They'll show up.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Ducks in a Row</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The groomsman and bridesmaid are selected.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There is actually a lot of foreshadowing in this chapter, some on purpose and some on accident. See how many hints you pick up on and pay attention in later chapters!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> ✥Nine days Before the Wedding✥ </em>
</p><p>“You will be responsible for assuring everyone’s accessories match, coordinating gifts from groomsmen, keeping a very close watch on the schedule, preparing a toast, and welcoming guests. Is that understood?”</p><p>Solid was practically vibrating with excitement. He balled his fists and nodded like a broken bobblehead. “Yeah! Yeah! And planning the bachelor party?”</p><p>“I am not having a bachelor party.”</p><p>“What? No bachelor party!?”</p><p>Nozel tried to level a chastising glare at his brother, but his attention was drawn to the screaming kids running past him instead. When he turned around, Ellie was darting through the room, holding the empty velvet ring box that Nozel had given Leocadio to play with. The baby scrambled after his much bigger cousin on his hands and knees before tripping on the rug and faceplanting. </p><p>Nozel flinched. The fall looked bad, but Leocadio didn’t so much as whimper, so he tried not to be caught reacting. Face stern, he scooped him up and snatched the box from Ellie’s hand. Ellie skidded to a halt and pouted at him. “Hey!”</p><p>“You may also end up holding the rings, if this endeavor proves fruitless,” Nozel muttered, brushing Leoadio’s messy bangs out of his face. The baby pouted, but the rosy spot on his forehead wouldn’t leave a mark. “Ellie, if I have to tell you again that you cannot run in here, I will kick you out.” He set Leocadio gently on his feet and handed him the ring box. “Do not test my patience.”</p><p>She slunk to the other side of the sitting room like a sentenced prisoner, and with a loud groan, threw herself onto the couch. Leocadio crawled after her.</p><p>Solid eyed the kids with the same jealous suspicion he’d had since meeting them four days ago. “I think you can do without them both,” he said conspiratorially. “I can do everything that they can do with much less slobber.”</p><p>Nozel arched a brow. “Is that so? Will that be true at the reception?”</p><p>Solid straightened, eyes askance. “I don’t know what you mean.”</p><p>He lifted his head and looked down his nose at him. “Let me make something very clear, Solid: This wedding needs to go off as smoothly as possible. Do not be the squeaky wheel.”</p><p>Solid’s cheeks caught a little color. He rubbed his arm to hide his fidgeting. “I can’t have a few drinks?”</p><p>Nozel pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Let me put it this way: no one is allowed to get drunker than me.”</p><p>Solid’s shoulders slacked, but he lowered his head, acquiescing. “Yes, brother.”</p><p>A movement from his periphery made Nozel turn. Upon seeing who stood in the doorway, he straightened. Solid bristled.</p><p>Noelle flashed him a timid smile, her hand coming up in a slow wave. “Hi, big brother. I got your invitation…!”</p><p>“What the hell are you doing here?” Solid scoffed, putting his hands on his hips and flipping his bangs. “The wedding isn’t for nine days. We’re not pre-gaming here.”</p><p>“That’s enough, Solid!” Nozel snapped. “If you can’t be bothered to speak to our sister with respect, you will not speak at all.”</p><p>Solid startled and shrank, stepping back and lowering himself onto the couch like a child in time out.</p><p>“...But he is right.” He turned back to Noelle with a frown. “We are in the middle of preparations. Is there something you need?”</p><p>“Oh, um…” Noelle played with her fingers, her pink eyes trailing around the room as she decided on what to say. “Well, the wedding was so sudden, and I’ve seen the papers, and it looked like a lot was going on here… I wanted to check on you. And I wanted to see the baby.”</p><p>Expression softening, Nozel looked around. Leocadio was sitting beside the couch with the ring box in his mouth. He picked him up and beckoned Noelle farther into the room.</p><p>His little sister’s face lit up. She tiptoed up to him and held out her hand. “Hi, baby!... What’s his name?”</p><p>“Leocadio.” Nozel cleared his throat and looked away. “Fuegoleon named him.”</p><p>“Fuegoleon? Why did…” She trailed off, but let the baby distract her when he pulled the ring box from his mouth and grabbed her sleeve.</p><p>Nozel gave him a light nudge, glad for the change in topic. “Say hello, Dio. This is your Aunt Noelle.”</p><p>Leocadio let out a coo, a smile stretching across his face. He tried to bring her sleeve to his mouth, but he was stopped by Nozel tugging it out of his hand.</p><p>Noelle beamed. “Can I hold him?”</p><p>Fatherly defensiveness prickled his skin. After a moment of deliberation, he shifted the baby into Noelle’s arms, muttering instructions as he did. “Put your arm under his bottom. Hold his back. Don’t let him tip back too far.”</p><p>Noelle’s hold was clumsy, but Leocadio was an easy baby to hold. The two examined each other’s faces before Leocadio, satisfied by what he saw, stuffed the ring box back into his mouth. Noelle giggled. “He’s so cute! How old is he?”</p><p>“About a year,” Nozel replied.</p><p>“Oh!... When is his birthday?”</p><p>“...December 30th.” </p><p>“The same as yours? That’s so cute! Do you hear that, Leocadio? You are soooo cute!”</p><p>Nozel allowed himself a small smile. Noelle cooed and chittered at the baby, and Leocadio loved it, laughing at her voice when it went up and down. Memories of his mother holding Solid and Nebra the same way, doing the simplest things to make them laugh filled his mind. She really was so much like her; down to her smile, the soft way she looked at children, the way she was careful but clumsy with handling them but always confident in how she spoke to them. Usually it caused a deep, aching pain in his heart to be so haunted with the sight of her. But now, it was a comfort that he couldn’t name. </p><p>Noelle didn’t lose her smile when Leocadio grabbed one of her pigtails and gave it a tug, but Nozel did. The peaceful moment of recollection burst like a soap bubble, and suddenly he was back to business.  “His manners need some improvement,” he apologized, taking the baby’s hand and uncurling his fingers from his sister’s hair. “He’s got too much Vermillion blood, it seems.”</p><p>Solid scoffed and rolled his eyes.</p><p>Nozel straightened and turned toward him with an icy deadpan. “Solid, why don’t you go acquaint yourself with the schedule?”</p><p>Taking the hint, Solid rose, smoothed his shirt, and strolled out of the room. Ellie hopped up and scurried after him, waving to Noelle on her way out. “Bye, pigtail lady!”</p><p>“Bye…?” She stared after the little girl, puzzled. “Who was that?”</p><p>“That’s Ellie.” He pulled out a kerchief and swabbed the drool off his son’s face before he could assail Noelle with it. “I don’t have time for twenty questions, which I’m sure you have, so I will give you three. Then I have to get back to planning.”</p><p>“Okay.” Noelle shifted Leocadio to her hip. “Where did he come from?”</p><p>“We don’t know.”</p><p>“Who are his parents?”</p><p>“I am his father. You would not believe me if I told you about his other parent.”</p><p>Noelle pouted. “Big brother, that’s only a partial answer.”</p><p>“Fine. You can ask two more questions.”</p><p>Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you marrying Lady Mereoleona? Is she-”</p><p>“For PR. You have one more.”</p><p>Noelle pursed her lips, thinking long and hard. She was thinking so hard, in fact, that she didn’t notice the predator creeping up behind her, or the paw of fire descending upon her until it was clamped around her head.</p><p>She was hoisted into the air with a startled squeak. The paw shook her, and Leocadio was tossed from her arms. Nozel dove to catch him as Noelle clawed at the air. “Big bother! Help!”</p><p>“There is nothing I can do for you now,” Nozel said grimly.</p><p>Mereoleona cackled as she marched into the room. “You!” She jabbed Noelle in the chest. “You little shit! Do you know the trouble you put me through?”</p><p>“Me?” she cried. “What did I do!?”</p><p>“I went all the way to the Black Bulls hideout to get you, only to hear that you were already here!” She bared her teeth in a wry grin, and then marched out of the room. “Come on. You’re going to be my maid of honor!”</p><p>“I am? Wait! Nozel, what’s happening?” Noelle flailed her arms, helpless to stop the claw around her cranium from dragging her out of the room.</p><p>“That’s your fourth question,” Nozel replied. “You’re the maid of honor. Congratulations.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Here we see Nozel in the rare form of "I've messed up my relationship with one little sister, so I must be very careful not to mess up my relationship with the other. Solid, are you taking notes?"</p><p>Who did you think were going to be the bridesmaid and groomsman? I'm curious!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Read It Back</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While getting fitted for his suit, Fuegoleon drops in to tell Nozel about an exciting development. Then they discuss the upcoming nuptials.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was a fun chapter to write because it's a lil bit cute! There's a lot of Nozel being soft in this one, which is always fun. Hopefully, it still feels in character.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>✥Seven Days Before the Wedding✥</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel stared down into the Vermillion courtyard, where Elleon Vermillion was building a snowman with Leopold under the light of a lamppost. The two had been at it for as long as Nozel had been stuck in this room, getting fitted for his wedding suit-- approaching two hours. The sun had set an hour ago, but despite the darkness that they now worked in, Vermillions showed no signs of slowing. Nozel was glad for that; watching their antics was the only thing keeping him from either falling asleep standing up, or snapping the slow, elderly  tailor in half like a twig.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you could lift your arm please, my lord,” said the tailor, rubbing his mustache. “Just a few more adjustments, and we will be done.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel grinded his teeth as he lifted his arm. At least there was an end in sight. Beating down his growing impatience, he turned again to the window. Leopold was lifting Ellie high over his head, where she placed the head on the shoulders of their titanic snowman. The two whooped and hollered in celebration before Ellie scampered off a few steps, her mana flaring around her. She faced the snowman, wiggled like a cat, and barrelled into it, surrounded by an aura of wild fire magic. Leopold let out a startled laugh as the snowman melted and toppled, and Ellie struggled to free herself from the snow pile on the side of the plowed path.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A pin pricked Nozel in the ribs. He winced and sucked in a breath through his teeth. His mana bristled dangerously in the air around him, making the tailor fidget. “Almost done, my lord.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel flexed his fingers, letting his angry mana chill the air. If he didn’t get out of here soon, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> make a scene.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door flew open with a gust of hot air. Nozel and the tailor startled, whirling toward the entrance. There Fuegoleon stood, expression wild, holding his infant son to his chest. “Nozel!” he boomed. “There is something you must see!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel blinked at him, taken aback. He hadn’t heard a word from Fuegoleon in almost a week-- since the wedding invitations had gone out. “What is it?” He added to the tailor in a flat growl, “Get out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tailor scurried out of the room like a scared beetle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon flashed him an excited smile. Mana broiling around him, he held up the baby, and then demonstratively set him on his feet. “Show him, Leocadio!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a carefulness that didn’t betray his excitement, he removed his hands from the baby’s waist. Leocadio wobbled and fell into a crouch. Nozel stared, anxiety digging at his insides, as Leocadio lifted his head, and upon catching his Silva father’s eye, rocked onto his haunches. He rose to his feet, and hands outstretched, took a small, wobbly step.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sight banished the irritated static from Nozel’s head. Eyes wide, he crouched, holding out his hands. Leocadio’s smile grew. He picked up speed, clumsily closing the distance until he could confidently fall into Nozel’s arms. The man scooped him up, holding him like a trophy. “He’s walking!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon puffed his chest, his mana throwing up his clothes and hair in triumphant waves. “I thought this would cheer you up! Isn’t he talented?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel sank into the lounge chair by the window, looking down at the baby with a soft smile. He remembered the first time every one of his siblings walked, because he’d been there: Nebra was fourteen months old when she’d dragged herself to her feet, waddled to the coffee table, and lunged at her bottle. Solid was sixteen months old when he’d seen Nozel coming from a distance and ran the entire length of the room to meet him. Noelle, ever a late bloomer, was just short of two years old when she’d pushed herself onto her feet and scampered after a toy that Solid had pulled out from under her. And here was his son, walking at a year old. “Yes, he is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s grin settled into a content smile. He closed the door and marched to the window, leaning against it in front of Nozel and Leocadio. “You’ve hardly had a chance to see him in this week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s smile dissolved. Even as those happy memories of his siblings danced in his head, he knew that this one of Leocadio would not hold the same weight. They hadn’t been his </span>
  <em>
    <span>first</span>
  </em>
  <span> steps. He’d missed them. “I’ve been busy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s smile ticked back another degree. “Yes, I’ve noticed.” His eyes trailed up and down the length of his suit: deep blue with silver trim; accents of white and light blue. “That is a lovely suit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you.” He hadn’t meant to, but he sounded wry. He kept his eyes on Leocadio, smoothing his cowlicked hair with his thumb. “If he can walk steadily enough, he could be the ring bearer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon shifted in his seat like he’d stepped on a pin. “I take it Ellie is the flower girl?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The two glanced out the window just in time to see the five-year-old lift a snowball as big as she was over her head, run at Leopold screaming, and slam it into his chest. Leopold toppled like a sack of grain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unfortunately.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leocadio strained toward the window until he was pressed to Nozel’s hands. Nozel lifted him onto his feet, holding him around the middle so that he could press his hands to the glass and watch. As Leo pelted Ellie with a snowball, he let out an excited babble and smacked the glass. He looked to Nozel expectantly, pointing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A smile softened Nozel’s face once again. “No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leocadio flapped his lips and did baby squats in his lap, staring more determinedly out the window than ever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s eyes followed the bob of his head as he crossed his arms and pressed his shoulder to the window. “Are you done being fitted? Let’s celebrate! A little fun in the snow won’t do you or him any harm. Or how about a hot bath?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel had to admit that a hot bath sounded really good right about now. Even trailing after his son in the snow sounded like a reprieve from the constant string of meetings and showings and fittings that he had planned for the rest of the week. But he couldn’t spare the time. Regret twisted at his heart until it was painful. “I can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s smile finally flatlined. “You didn’t have to book this wedding so soon.” There was malice in his voice; covered, contained, but it was there. Nozel could hear it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In a week it will be over, and we can continue with our lives.” He ran his fingers through his son’s golden hair; it flipped and fluffed in all the same ways his did, forming a short fluffy crest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Things will not go back to normal, Nozel. You will be </span>
  <em>
    <span>married.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” There it was again. On the ‘married’: something ugly and bitter that Fuegoleon did not wear well. “There is still time to reconsider. You don’t have to do this. We can find another way to explain away what’s happened with Leocadio and Elleon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It isn’t about them. It’s about Nebra, and setting an example. I made a mistake, and I have to correct it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s brow furrowed. “So Nebra wants you to marry Mereoleona?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s face hardened, masking the twinge of regret he felt as his sister’s last words to him. “It wasn’t her idea…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leocadio pushed off the windowsill with a commanding babble. He wobbled on his father’s knee before leaning toward the floor. Nozel paused a beat, scanning the floor for any lost threads or needles, before setting him down. Leocadio entertained himself by examining Nozel’s sandal straps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She appreciates it that much then?” Fuegoleon pressed, eyes darkening. “It’s a very big step to take to preserve her reputation.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s silence bit at Fuegoleon’s patience. The way he didn’t meet his eyes and didn’t answer his question… that wasn’t the answer that he wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is she going to be in the wedding?” he tried again, crossing his arms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nozel, say something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want me to say, Fuegoleon?” He leaned down, picking carpet fuzz out of Leocadio’s hand. “Nebra is not happy with me. But she knows that I am doing this for her, and she will get over it. It doesn’t matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s face hardened into a glare. “It does matter!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” he sighed, glaring back at him. “Why does it matter so much to you that I marry your sister? I will be here. Leocadio will be here. You will not lose any access to him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon stared him down, feeling that burning, twisting feeling in his chest again. He didn’t know. He didn’t know why it mattered. Because he’d already deduced that Nozel was right: Leocadio would be Mereoleona’s in name only. And that hurt his pride, but it wasn’t what was making him so angry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel looked away, rubbing dust off the baby’s fingers. “There’s only a slim chance that this wedding will happen anyway. It’s nothing to be worked up about.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon felt like he’d been punched in the face. He straightened, glare softening to a baffled frown. “What makes you say that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mereoleona wants us to be married as little as I do. There is no way that she will go through with this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon did a double take. “So… It is not actually your plan to get married.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel didn’t speak, his eyes still on the baby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are counting on Mereoleona backing out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes narrowed on Leocadio’s neatly trimmed fingernails.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This entire situation-- your future, Mereoleona’s future, and our son’s future --rests on Mereoleona being less stubborn than you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel leered at him through his bangs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Correct me if I’m wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have something to say, or are you flapping your gums to waste my time?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...No.” He pushed off the window, expression hardening. “I guess not. I’ll let you get on with your night.” He picked up Leocadio, who let out a whine of protest. “We’re going. Good evening.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel glared a hole into the back of his head all the way out of the room. When the door closed, he stood, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. He’d wanted the baby to stay. And Fuegoleon’s barely capped anger had gotten to him; he was unnerved. Because he had to admit: his plan sounded pretty bad when someone read it back to him like that. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hmm... Fuegoleon's feeling some kind of way... Surely that will not have consequences later, right? It's probably nothing. He'll shake it off.</p>
<p>"Uhfa guffaw harumph why did the Silvas walk so late" LISTEN. In a family that prides itself on how little physical work they do, the babies are gonna be weak-ass plants. Change my mind.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Lover's Quarrel</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>While Nozel and Mereoleona work out details about the wedding, Nozel notices that his rival seems a bit off.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter was a lot of fun to write! Everybody is just off the shits, which is how I like them. I am in my element in this chapter. Anyway, here you get a look at how Nozel and Mereoleona are acting towards each other during all this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>✥Five Days Before the Wedding✥</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Silver Eagles base shook as a tower wall erupted in a blast of silver and orange. Nozel was thrown from his office by a fist of flames. He blinked his spotty vision clear, and twisting, caught himself with a silver disk before he hit the ground. As he jumped to his feet, Mereoleona slammed into him again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A wall of mercury bubbled up between them as they spun toward the ground, but Mereoleona’s burning magic power boiled it away, and the impact of her slamming against him scattered what remained. Nozel struggled to put enough space between them for his mercury to form, but Mereoleona’s magic was burning it away as fast as he could create it, throwing up clouds of gas mercury into the air. That at least slowed her down, and in the final moments before they hit the ground, he managed to twist out from under her. She caught him by the neck just before she hit the ground, a crater shattering the snowy stone path beneath them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wind was knocked out of him, but Nozel knew that he had to act fast if he didn’t want to be caught; she would only be stunned for a second. Mercury formed under the heels of his shoes, and with mana reinforcing his legs, he launched himself into the air, using her chest as a springboard; Mereoleona was left snatching at empty air. He had just enough time to get a platform under his feet and form a shield before Mereoleona shot into the sky. She collided with his shield with the force of an erupting volcano, melting through it until they were once again hand-in-hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mana around them coiled unnaturally as the furious lioness twisted it to her will. Her legs, curled tight, found invisible purchase, and she bared her teeth in a snarl. “I said no lilies!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The condensed mana released with a herculean burst of energy, and Nozel was shot toward the ground like a meteor hurdling toward earth. Mereoleona still had his hands trapped; she was falling with him. He frantically scrambled to create a buffer before it was too late, but even with a thick cushion of mercury, their impact sent bricks flying from the path. Before he could catch his breath, Mereoleona’s knee lodged itself against his sternum. His hands were pinned above his head. She leaned in, her breath molten hot in his face. “Do you hear me? No lilies!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want lilies!” he wheezed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No lilies!” she roared. “Not up for debate!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Butterfly weeds are hideous!” he gasped. Orbs of mercury formed around him, poised for an attack.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a blatant power play, Mereoleona released his hand and smashed her palm into one of them. It sizzled to nothing under her fierce heat. “Then pick something pretty! But not lilies!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is the problem with lilies?” he snapped. “I like them! They are my favorite flower! Are you willing to cripple me over a flower?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you willing to be crippled over a flower?” she shot back, curling her free hand into a fist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s eyes narrowed bitterly. “Fine, then white amaryllis!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona wound back her fist, writhing with flame.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel put up his free arm and struggled. “What is wrong with you!? If you don’t want any of my flowers at the wedding, then call it off!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Mereoleona snarled. “No, we’re having this wedding </span>
  <em>
    <span>without lillies and amaryllis,</span>
  </em>
  <span> unless you call it off!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell is going on here? Lover’s quarrel?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel and Mereoleona looked up. Strolling across the destroyed front lawn of the Silver Eagles estate was Yami Sukehiro. A small hoard of Silver Eagles followed him, the loudest among them Solid. As the Black Bulls captain approached, he ran ahead of him, frantic. “Nozel, I tried to tell him that you were busy, but he wouldn’t listen to me! He barged right in!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want?” Mereoleona sighed, lowering her fist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Heard there was a wedding.” He stopped at the edge of their latest crater and crossed his arms, notably bare in the cold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where did you hear that?” Nozel grumbled. Pride taking hold of him, he shoved his hand against Mereoleona’s neck and tried to free himself. She didn’t budge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Noelle came by babbling about being the maid of honor? Seemed fishy to me, so I thought I’d check it out myself. Wouldn’t want your precious baby sister getting fooled or anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona huffed. “Yeah, she’s my maid of honor. Nozel and I are getting married at the end of the week.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Huh.” Yami pulled out a cigarette and lit it as the Silver Eagles behind him chattered nervously. When he let out his first puff of smoke, his eyebrows tipped up in a sulky leer. “Why wasn’t I invited?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel glared at him in disbelief. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought we were friends, braidface. Well, maybe not friends, but comrades. Seems like you don’t have a lot of friends, especially with Princess Snooze-a-Lot off on secret missions.” He pursed his lips. “Why can’t I come? Too many big wigs for you to be seen with little ole me? That hurts my feelings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t invite Yami?” Mereoleona asked, glaring down at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t invite any of the captains!” he snapped. “It’s a very small wedding!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yami exhaled a puff of smoke. “Why? Not like you guys can’t afford it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh! Beats me.” Mereoleona thumped her knee against Nozel’s chest. “What’s going on in your head?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, you can come!” Nozel wheezed. “Bring the other captains for all I care! Just get out!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cool. Where is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Solid, give him the details.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solid looked like he couldn’t decide whether to throw a punch or cry. But his sense of brotherly duty kicked in, and he turned on his heel and marched toward the base. Yami, satisfied, sauntered after him, and the silver eagles scattered in his wake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel let his head fall into the mud that the destroyed ground below him had become. “Are you happy now?” he puffed. “Now I will need to update the seating, catering, guest list, party favors…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why the hell wouldn’t you invite them in the first place, you idiot?” she grumbled, shifting her knee off his chest. “You should have known that they’d come whether you did or not. Don’t you know how a pride works? Where one lion goes, they all go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A magic knight squad is a pride. The captains of the magic knight squads are under no obligation to move as a unit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona leered at him critically. “So how many silver eagles did you invite?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His face twisted into a scowl.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t trust you to do anything right.” She got to her feet, grabbed him by his shirt, and hauled him to his feet. “Get up. We still have to order these damn flowers before the end of the day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel planted his feet and shoved her hand away. His entire body felt like one big bruise; his legs shook, his head pounded, and he was cold, wet, and shivering. But he couldn’t be sure that that was all due to the beating he just took. “I want white flowers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then pick some that we can actually use!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>✥---✥</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Late that evening, and under duress of flurries, Nozel and Mereoleona returned to House Vermillion. Snow had piled on Nozel’s shoulders and head on his walk home, sticking to the fur of his Silver Eagles cloak and dirty silver hair. His lips were blue, his skin pale, and his jaw ached from chattering. Beside him, Mereoleona was warmer, but no less tired and dirty. They were bruised and battered. They’d spent the day in an office their fights had destroyed, pouring over every mind numbing detail of this god-forsaken wedding. In stubborn silence the two trudged into the castle, and went their separate ways.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With his room in sight, Nozel let his shoulders slack. It had been a very long day, and for once, he thought he’d be able to sleep soundly through the night. Then he remembered all the repairs he’d have to organize for his base, and the tension was back. How was he going to fit that in among all the wedding preparations that still had to be done?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was so consumed by the thought that he didn’t notice Fuegoleon standing in the hall until he was nearly upon him. Coming to a sudden stop, he straightened and backpedaled. “Fuegoleon. I didn’t see you there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel hadn’t seen him much at all lately, as a matter of fact. He popped in now and then to throw Leocadio in his arms, but he didn’t stay long. Nozel didn’t blame him; even under the same roof, their paths had little reason to cross amongst their busy schedules, and neither of them had been the best company lately. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nozel.” It looked like he was on his way to bed: he was in his pajamas and carrying a mug of hot chocolate. His eyes trailed up and down the length of the disheveled captain. “You look… what happened to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got in a fight with Mereoleona,” he sighed. “More than one, actually. Wedding preparations.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” He looked him over again, his lips forming a hard line. “You were fighting with my sister.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, we had some disagreements and it came to blows. Is something wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no.” The flames along his hand danced faster. “Did you get everything worked out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Yes, after some severe property damage. But I shouldn’t expect any less from her, I guess,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s good.” His voice was getting lower and tighter the longer they talked. “You and Mereoleona worked it out. Through blows. My rival and my sister. Working out their differences through battle.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, it made for a very long day, and I’m…” Nozel frowned. “Fuego? Your drink is boiling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon cocked his head toward his mug. It was frothing and boiling over, spilling onto his flame hand and the floor. “So it is. Goodnight.” He turned and marched to his room, leaving a trail of spilled hot chocolate behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel stared after him, baffled. Obviously something had rubbed his rival the wrong way, but the exact cause evaded his tired mind. In a puzzled haze he went to his room and took a long, hot shower. His mind ran clearer with the water, but by the time he stepped out of the shower, he had no answers for Fuegoleon’s strange behavior, and quite a bit of anxiety about it. He decided, reluctantly, that he’d have to get another opinion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Some inquiring confirmed his suspicions about Mereoleona’s whereabouts, and he soon arrived at the Vermillion bathhouse. Shedding his robe, he stepped into the hot water and sank in up to his neck. It took the last of his resolve to mute a moan. The water easily went to work on his tense, aching muscles, sapping the stress out of his body. He leaned back and closed his eyes, flirting with sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t until a voice rose from the other side of the divider that he remembered why he’d come here. “Just when I thought I’d have a moment of peace.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mereoleona.” He forced his heavy eyelids open and ran his hands down his face. The day wasn’t over yet. “I have a question for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“About what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuegoleon. He’s been acting very strange lately. I know he doesn’t approve of this situation, but something else seems to be bothering him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anxiety coiled in the muscles of his back. He shifted and tried again. “Whatever it is, it won’t make him act up during the wedding, will it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not going to be in the wedding.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel sat upright like he’d been stabbed in the back. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He said he wouldn’t be a groomsman. He’s coming but he’s not going to be in it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel stared at the divider, misery filling his chest like dark water. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He’s not going to be in the wedding? And he didn’t tell me?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “Why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You just said it: He doesn’t approve.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel leaned against the side of the pool, staring at the water with distant eyes. He wanted to feel angry; betrayed; like he’d been wronged in some way. But all he really felt was sad. “Would anything change his mind?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona scoffed. “You could try. But I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that why he’s been acting so strange lately?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She let out a dark chuckle. “I don’t think so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should be able to figure this one out, metalhead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Usually he’d be insulted by such a condescension, but he had to admit that if he weren’t stretched so thin, he probably could. Fuegoleon’s feelings had gotten lost in the shuffle. He ran his hand down his face and rubbed his eyes until they hurt. “Can I have a hint?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure. He doesn’t know why he’s mad either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great. So we’re both flying blind, and you won’t help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tch. This might be my circus, but he’s not my monkey.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>mine?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel was starting to suspect that he was being picked on. He sank into the water and went silent, brow furrowed. What was he missing here?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey. You know what would make him feel better?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He eyed the divider warily. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Calling off this wedding.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmph. I’d die first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then nobody’s going to win.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Mereoleona actually has a perfectly valid reason for not wanting those particular flowers in in arrangements, but it's not explicitly stated; you'll have to pay attention to catch the reason. Also she chose butterfly weed for its meaning and color, not because she likes it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. My Darling Little Sister</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Noelle pays Nozel a quick visit, and the two have the Silva equivalent of a heart-to-heart.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter was a very late addition to this story, but it might be my favorite. I hope you like it!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>✥Three Days Before the Wedding✥</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel pressed his index and pointer fingers to his temple and held them there, feeling the pressure under them grow until it made him dizzy. When he could take it no more, he dropped his hand onto his desk. The pain dulled in comparison, but he couldn’t tell if it was better than before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Outside his bedroom door, a cacophony of excited chattering came and went. The bridesmaids were putting the finishing touches on… </span>
  <em>
    <span>something,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he hadn’t caught exactly what. His groomsmen were running errands all over the place for him. He was reviewing Solid’s seating charts and guest lists, checking for any serious discrepancies, and to his chagrin, he’d already found plenty. He had to keep Solid busy, because he knew he was too short-tempered to deal with him fairly; it wasn’t Solid’s fault that he didn’t know every feud and squabble that had passed through the Silva clan in the past forty years. Solid hadn’t even been alive to know, and hadn’t been old enough to be told about them before their mother died. That meant that giving him the task of the seating chart was an oversight on Nozel’s part.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he flipped to page two of Solid’s notes, he couldn’t help but dwell on how Nebra would have had this done right in an hour. She, too, had been too young to hear about the family drama from Mother, but she studied the goings on of the extended family like the valuable intel it was. Sure, she would have made jokes about putting their nagging great-aunt next to their short-tempered second cousin, but it would have been done right if she took it seriously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A chorus of girlish squeals from down the hall made his head throb. The fact that he was doing this with a searing headache wasn’t helping the process along. It would have done some good to close the door, but then his groomsmen wouldn’t bother to check in with him, and that would put them further behind than they already were. He could work through it. He had worked through worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Someone stepped into his doorway. He ignored them at first, finishing the task of checking the names of one table, before he looked up. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the doorway stood Noelle. She was wearing a white and orange dress, showing off the back by having her body turned toward the door. Clearly there was something in her arms that she didn’t want him to see yet. She grinned at him over her shoulder. “I want to show you something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was not a necessary distraction. He sucked in a breath, swallowing his impatience. “Make it quick, I’m very busy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Back still to him, she glided across the room on her stockinged toes. She stopped in front of him, eyes shining, and then whirled around, holding her hidden surprise. “Ta-da!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leocadio sat her arms, looking like Nozel was as big a surprise to him as he was to Nozel. He was dressed in a neatly fitted blue tuxedo, complete with a silver bowtie and tiny navy blue shoes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s heart melted. He took him from Noelle’s arms and stood him on his knees, looking him over with soft eyes. Even his hair had been combed to near-perfection, his flipped cowlicks and awkward tufts meticulously smoothed back and clipped down to form a perfect, strawberry blond crest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t he adorable?” Noelle trilled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, he is,” Nozel murmured. He took the baby’s hands, holding his arms out so he could see as much of the suit as possible. A handsome, perfect little baby in a handsome, perfect little suit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The tailor just got done fitting it for him, and I had to come show you. I thought it would make you happy.” She leaned down, trying to catch his eye. “But I won’t distract you if you’re busy. I’ll take him out if you want me to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leocadio, happy to have his father’s attention, did baby squats until he lost his footing and fell on his butt. Nozel’s grip on his hands kept him from falling backwards, and smiling, he adjusted his hold to seat him comfortably in his lap. “Mother used to dress up Nebra and Solid like this all the time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A flash of surprise gave way to a warm smile on Noelle’s face. She backed up, leaning against the bedpost. “She did?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, straightening Leocadio’s bowtie while the baby babbled in protest. “We always had events to attend when they were babies. Weddings, birthday parties, holiday parties. They hated it. Solid would chew the buttons off his shirts when no one was looking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A timid laugh bubbled up Noelle’s throat. “Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel hummed. “He’s never liked dressing up; even now, he hates it. You, however… We could put you in anything. You were a much more sensible baby.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noelle lowered her eyes, abashed. She wasn’t sure how to take such a compliment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s smile thinned. Serious again, he asked, “He hasn’t been giving you trouble, has he?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Solid?” She lifted her head. “No, he’s been fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” He settled his hands on Leocadio’s waist and bounced his knee. “If he disrespects you, tell me immediately. The same goes for Nebra.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noelle smiled sheepishly as she played with her skirt. Now didn’t seem like the best time to tell him that Nebra had been acting like her best friend ever since she arrived in the castle city. The two had a long and energetic chat about the wedding every evening over tea and cookies in the music room. That was news best saved for later. “I will, big brother.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For several minutes they sat in a silence that wasn’t quite comfortable, but not tense or awkward either. When Leocadio climbed to the floor and toddled around the room, Nozel watched him without seeing him. The unrivaled peace of this moment amidst all the chaos of the last two weeks was unmistakable; and though he was aware of the clock ticking down on the dozens of tasks that he still had to get done, he was glad to make it last. “I am glad that you’re here, Noelle,” he admitted. “I am grateful for your participation. Mereoleona made a prudent choice in making you her maid of honor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noelle looked at him, skin warming with surprise. Even as he grew to acknowledge her as a magic knight, she’d never heard her brother say something like that. Her skills, her growth, her strength, all these he’d acknowledged. But none of her siblings had ever said that they were grateful she was there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s eyes widened as she turned away, bringing the base of her hand to her eye. He lifted a hand feebly. “Oh, no, don’t…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry!” She wiped at her dribbling eyes and sucked in a breath that turned into a sniffle. “I’m okay. I’m just really happy I’m here, too, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gripped by an embarrassed panic, Nozel rose and disappeared into his bathroom. He reemerged with a box of tissues, and he held them out to her, looking away. Noelle plucked up a couple and padded her face with them until it was completely dry. She couldn’t quite banish the rosiness from her cheeks, but at least her tears dried up before she got sobbing; she knew Nozel hated crying. Drawing in a steady breath, she dabbed her eyes one last time and smiled. “So, um…” Her gaze trailed the room until it found a point of interest. “Is he supposed to be…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel followed her gaze, and bristling, he tossed the tissue box aside. He jumped into action as Leocadio, dangling from a drawer, pulled out a pair of pants. The baby’s feet went out from under him and the drawer slid open until it hit the joint. Nozel pressed his hand to the dresser before it could tip under his weight and snatched up Leocadio with the other hand. The pants came with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noelle giggled, watching Nozel wrestle the pants out of his son’s hand and shove them back in the drawer. “He’s a handful, huh? What did you say before? About all that Vermillion blood?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel grunted. The dresser drawer was stuck on the hinge and didn’t want to go in. He balanced Leocadio on his hip as he worked it back into its grooves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He must take after Vermillions a lot, huh?” She raised her eyebrows hopefully. “He must be a lot like…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Over his shoulder, Nozel fixed her with a chafing look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pushing her luck, she smiled wider and tried again. “Like…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am not in the mood to discuss that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” She pouted. “But why not? It seems like everyone knows but me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everyone should </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>know; that is the entire point of this wedding.” He slammed his palm into the drawer, and it slid back into its slot with a crash.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noelle’s pout deepened. “But it’s not Mereoleona?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed. “No, of course not…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A ruckus erupted in the hall. Nozel, Noelle, and Leocadio looked toward the door as the chattering of women abruptly gave way to the roars of men. An argument-- or maybe just a confused exchange --echoed through the hall before Fuegoleon stampeded into the doorway, flanked by Solid, Kirsch, and Leopold. “Nozel! The baby!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel bristled. “What? What about him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s gone!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noelle’s eyes widened. She looked back at Nozel, frantic to be excused of the apparent crime she’d committed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s gone, Nozel! Our son is gone!” Fuegoleon’s voice rattled the paintings on the walls. The groomsmen tried to calm him, but he was inconsolable; he let his mana go wild, forcing them back under threat of burns. “He came to us so suddenly, and now suddenly he’s left! Our son! Our own flesh and blood! Gone!” He threw back his head and let out a primal scream, and his mana burst forth, throwing up his hair and clothes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Noelle crouched, ready to dart to safety. The groomsmen were pressed to the walls, wild-eyed with panic and at a loss of what to do. Fuegoleon’s grief was rapidly filling the bedroom with searing heat. The wood of the door frame started to darken. The candles on the dresser melted. The air approached a temperature too hot to breathe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel braced against the heat, mercury forming a buffer between Fuegoleon and him. He forced his voice to an uncomfortable thunder to grab his inconsolable rival’s attention. “Fuegoleon! Calm down!” He pivoted, revealing the baby on his hip, safely surrounded by a protective coil of cooling mercury. “He’s right here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon lowered his fists to his sides. His fire winked out like a match in the wind. “Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s protective magic vanished. Eyes narrowed cantankerously, he held the baby out to him. “Here. Take him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon pressed his pointer fingers together, embarrassed. He crossed the room, accepted the baby, and marched out. Leocadio, watching Nozel over his shoulder, smacked his lips and waved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The room quickly cooled. Slowly, the groomsmen peeled themselves off the walls. Noelle, cowering by the bed, straightened. As her terror fizzled out, she brandished a surprised grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s lips formed a thin line. “I would explain if I could...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay.” She lifted her chin, cheeky. “This is easier to believe than you think.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know I may be stretching your willful suspension of disbelief a little thin with how Fuegoleon is acting in this chapter, but you've got to put yourself in his shoes. He quite literally stumbles upon a baby who he immediately loves as if he's had him since the day he was born, and gets NO explanation for where he came from. That means he has no evidence that this kid is not going to vanish as mysteriously as he showed up, which, due to the fact that he loves him like he's been his own all along, would be earth shattering. Then the kid gets plucked out of his hands by his babydaddy's little sister, and nobody can tell him where he went! You'd be upset, too.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Cold Feet, Warm Arms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The night before the wedding, Fuegoleon tries one last time to talk Nozel out of it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>✥One Day Before the Wedding✥</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Elleon Vermillion </span>
  <span>stepped into the aisle. Fidgeting in her bright orange dress, she took a step toward the altar.Then, another. Her tight grip on her flower basket loosened. Slowly, she reached into the basket, pulled out a handful of flower petals, and held them out. She took another step. Flicked her wrist. Half of the petals fluttered from her hand and landed on the floor at her feet. She took another step. Tossed them the other way. With each step she sprinkled more petals into the aisle. Her fistfuls were indelicate, but her spreading of them was not. She made her way down the aisle one careful step at a time until she was standing in front of the altar, before Nozel, Mereoleona, Solid, Kirsch, Leopold, Noelle, Mimosa, and Reve. There she stopped, lifted her head, and smiled. “Did I do it right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone in the church let out a sigh of relief. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, that was right,” Nozel muttered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now where do you sit?” Mereoleona asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellie whirled around and pointed to the front pew, where Fuegoleon sat, his head in his hand like a prisoner on death row.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She got it right,” Nozel said, rolling his shoulders. “We’re done.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yay!” Ellie twirled, grabbed a fistful of flower petals, and shoved them in her mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everybody groaned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mereoleona smacked her on the back. “I said no eating the flowers!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flower petals flew from her mouth with a squawk. Kirsch pressed his fingers to his face in dismay, and with a delicate flick of his wrist, dispelled his simple spell. All of the petals vanished, and Ellie was left licking her lips with a pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s eat,” Nozel sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone in the wedding procession made their way to the Vermillion banquet hall, where their dinner was waiting. An invisible line separated the banquet into clans, with Mereoleona and Nozel marking its middle: dozens of loud, cheerful Vermillions on one side, and a handful of quietly content Silvas on the other. Nozel and Mereoleona, at a table with their siblings and children, were the lone somber spot at the party.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rehearsal had run late and everyone was eager to get to bed. Graciously, the banquet hall cleared out quickly. Nozel and Mereoleona saw off their distant relatives and had the children put to bed. Then in silence they went their separate ways, their siblings trailing them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think Ellie is going to eat the flowers tomorrow at the ceremony?” Noelle wondered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Probably,” Solid said. “What a weird kid. Leocadio looked better than her going down the aisle, and he can barely walk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did fine,” Nozel said tiredly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think they’re cute!” Noelle chirped. “So what if they can’t do it perfectly? That’s part of the charm.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does Dorothy plan to sleep through the whole thing?” Solid asked. “This wedding procession kind of sucks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not Dorothy. It’s Reeve,” Nozel muttered. “Have either of you talked to Nebra lately?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noelle and Solid exchanged a look of trepidation. “She’s been busy,” Solid said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With what?” he asked, eyes still dully fixed ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arranging repairs for the base. And she’s gone to a couple meetings…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel’s frown deepened. The property had been minimally repaired by the magic knights, enough to assure that the damage didn’t worsen before it was properly fixed. He’d meant to sit down and arrange professional repairs several times since his and Mereoleona’s duel, but other things kept coming up. He couldn’t even think of any meetings that he’d missed. He’d thought that the quiet order surrounding the Silver Eagles had been a figment of his overworked mind. But no; Nebra had been covering for him all along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s asked about the wedding a couple times,” Noelle offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallowed. “Has she.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Who’s invited, what’s the theme, things like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Has she considered coming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They grew quiet. The silence pressed upon Nozel like he was being buried alive: dark, suffocating, damning. He drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I am retiring for the night. I will see you two in the morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Noelle murmured. “Goodnight, brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sleep well,” Solid added.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t look back, but their presences faded with distance. Nozel took the long way to his room,  padding through the halls like he could lose the feeling of dread rapidly creeping up on him. It caught up to him at his bedroom door: he had no choice but to go to sleep and let tomorrow come. He sucked in a shaky breath and stepped into the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Many of his comforts from House Silva had been moved here-- his bedspread, his wardrobe, his bookshelf, his grooming supplies, decorations --but the place still felt alien and unwelcome. He hadn’t committed to living here; he refused to. There was no way he could spend the rest of his life in House Vermillion, married to Mereoleona. She wouldn’t allow it. She couldn’t bear it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> couldn’t bear it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dull terror coursed through his veins like an injection of ice water. It made his tired muscles ache and shook his hands. He sat down at his wardrobe and unfurled his braid, letting the locks of hair fall into his dark, addled eyes. It was hard to breathe, but his body, molded from birth for properness, wouldn’t let him hyperventilate. Instead he was stuck taking slow even breaths through a tight throat. His heart was hammering. He could feel his pulse in the knuckles of his fingers. His legs were tense and numb.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Am I really going to go through with this?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a knock on the door. Nozel flinched and blinked, staring at his ashen face in the mirror. He looked… wild. Terrified. Exhausted. Time had passed, but he didn’t know how much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nozel? It’s Fuegoleon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He drew in a breath and smoothed his hair back. As much as he hated to be seen without his braid, he’d look better with his bangs clipped back than with his hair loose. It wasn’t like Fuegoleon didn’t know what was under it anyway. There wasn’t anything he could do about his sickly appearance except give his cheeks a little pat, so he rose, smoothed his shirt, and opened the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon fixed him with a troubled frown as he took in his unravelling state. “May I come in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel shrugged his aching shoulders and walked back inside. As he sat down on the bed couch, Fuegoleon closed the door and sauntered to the middle of the room. He crossed and flexed his fingers-- he played with his hands a lot more since losing his arm --and looked around. “Are you still convinced that Mereoleona will back out of this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anger rose in his throat like bile. “If you came here to tell me ‘I told you so,’ get out now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not why I’m here,” he said flatly. “But if you don’t want to talk, I will go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel lowered his head and stared at the floor without seeing it. He did not want Fuegoleon to go. Anything to keep the night from passing and tomorrow from coming. “I want to talk. Stay.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...Alright. Then how are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He curled and uncurled his fingers, trying to keep the movement smooth. He couldn’t completely rid them of their shake. “I’ll admit that I may have lost control of this situation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s frown deepened. After coming from his sister’s room, where their argument had nearly come to blows, he’d expected Nozel to put up a similar fight. But here he was, belly up, defeated. It was a pitiful sight. And it wrung sympathy out of him like calloused hands twisting the last drops of moisture from a damp cloth. He stepped up to the bed couch. When Nozel didn’t lift his head, he took him gently by the chin and tilted his head up. “You’ve run yourself haggard over this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel stared up at him, trying to muster up a prideful retort. But Fuegoleon was right. He had.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me speak my mind about this, Nozel,” he said lowly. “What you and Mereoleona are doing is stupid. It is childish, petty, and imprudent. You should both be embarrassed that it’s gone this far. But it is not too late to fix it. If you call this off now, you will spare yourself the misery of following through with it. It is a defeat that you should be willing to take.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel stared back at him, dull with exhaustion but fighting to take what he said to heart. “And what if it’s not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then you are a coward!” Fuegoleon’s mana ignited around him, throwing up his hair and tunic in a blustering challenge. He braced, waiting for Nozel’s mana to rise up and bristle back. But it didn’t. He didn’t move. No mana burst from him. No competitive light shined in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Vermillion’s magic power settled to a whisper. He leaned in, searching Nozel’s face for a spark, a glare-- any sign of the gusto that made him the rival he treasured. But it wasn’t there. His brow furrowed, casting a shadow over his purple eyes. “Have you really given up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not what I would call it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s expression hardened. He grabbed Nozel’s arm and yanked him to his feet. The surprised Silva staggered, landing against his broad chest. Fuegoleon’s arms locked around him like a vice. “Do not give up, Nozel! I won’t allow it! I will breathe determination back into you if that’s what it takes!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His hand caught the back of Nozel’s head, and he pressed his lips to his. Nozel’s mind scrambled to catch up to what was happening: their mouths in a passionate embrace; Fuegoleon holding him close; his startled body crushed against him. A kiss for morale; a classic Fuegoleon Vermillion move. He hadn’t gotten a smooch like this in years. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You know what? Fuck it,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I could use a morale boost.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel cupped Fuegoleon’s cheek and turned his head. Their lips pressed together like old friends running into each other’s arms. Fuegoleon didn’t even falter: he met his intensity, and his lips, with his own. Color filled Nozel’s cheeks. His hands steadied. His heart thrummed with excitement. He’d missed this. The memory didn’t live up to the real thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A voice in the hall reached them through the door: “Fuegoleon?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two parted, catching their breath. Fuegoleon blinked like the lights had just come on in a pitch black room. His arms uncurled from Nozel’s waist. “I guess I should be going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel, relishing the taste of him on his lips, curled his fingers to his mouth and nodded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stepped slowly toward the door and opened it. “What is it, Leo?” As his younger brother answered his question, he stepped into the hall, pulling the door shut behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel listened to their muted voices until they disappeared up the hall. He sank onto the bed, arms spread wide. The fresh memory of their lips meeting repeated behind his eyes until the butterflies stopped dancing in his stomach. The kiss had done the job. His morale was boosted. He would get himself out of this.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know, I know. It was about time.</p><p>If you haven't read the other works in this series, sorry if this punched you in the face!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. You’ve Got all the Pieces, Bud</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>An hour before the wedding, guests arrive. Meanwhile, Fuegoleon asks Mereoleona for help with the dumbest problem he's ever head. She obliges.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Loafingdragon and I had a very intense discussion on just how much we should reveal about certain characters in this chapter. In the end, I decided to keep things at the need-to-know level, but hopefully some of that depth of character still seeped in. If it didn't, at least the number of odd details in these scenes should be funny.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“I don’t care where they </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> they should sit, the seating chart clearly says that guests are arranged by family and </span>
  <em>
    <span>then</span>
  </em>
  <span> affiliation, and we’re sticking to the chart!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The usher shrank under Solid’s voice and muttered an apology before scuttling off. Solid watched from a distance as she caught the attention of the lesser Silva clan and directed them to their proper seating place, a row farther back than they thought they were entitled to. They bitched and moaned, but they followed the usher’s instructions. Satisfied, he turned his attention to the open church doors, where more guests were filing in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This wasn’t his job, and he had no business doing it, but with Nozel so stressed, the least he could do was make sure that the wedding planner didn’t fuck up the seating. Keeping track of guests was one of his best man duties, and this was the most surefire way to assure that everything went off without a hitch. It wasn’t a big guest list, and he could handle it, and big brother would be satisfied that it was handled smoothly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He put on his gentlemanly smile as the next round of guests strolled in. “Good evening, captains,” he said. “So glad that you all could come. You can sit-- Wait, what are those?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yami, Charlotte, William, and Jack stopped at the doors, exchanging looks. Cradled in William’s arms was a tiny baby with a messy crop of black hair. Although dressed for the occasion, he was sound asleep. Weaving between the captains’ feet was a little girl, also dressed up, her short brown hair pulled back from her face in two French braids.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Yami greeted. He planted his hand on the little girl’s head, forcing her to a stop. “These are kids. Ever heard of them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solid scoffed. “I know what they are, but why are they here, and where did they come from? They weren’t invited.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlotte’s face darkened. “Yami, I told you to be sure that children could come.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was sure. They’re our plus ones,” he said. “What, you fancy royals can’t make room for two little bitty kids? Sounds fake to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Solid glowered. “That is not the point! Children are loud and rude. They’ll disrupt the wedding.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have my word that they won’t make a peep,” William said, flashing him a reassuring smile. “My baby is very well-behaved. He’s with me most of the time, and he goes unnoticed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you…” Solid trailed off, gauging how important it was to unravel this mystery on the spot. “Are the other captains coming?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yami scratched his chin. “Kaiser’s coming with his wife, but nobody told Rill. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> a kid that’ll disrupt a wedding.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good point,” Solid muttered. “Fine, they can come in. But they better not make a sound, or I’ll throw you all out myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keke! Sounds like a great after-party to me!” Jack licked his lips and flashed Solid a challenging smirk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sweat beading up on his brow, he flipped through his clipboard and pointed to a pew at the back of the church. “You can sit there. Thanks for coming.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The captains filed into the pew in a line. As the little girl tried to scamper past them, Yami snatched her by the arm and hauled her into his lap. “Ah-ah. You gotta be on your best behavior, or we’re all getting kicked out. And I’m not missing this shitshow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The little girl wrinkled her nose, but she managed to sound sincere. “I’ll be good, Daddy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“People are staring,” Charlotte murmured.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was true: all around the church, eyes were on them, and given that for once, they weren’t the most esteemed people in the building, it was pretty obvious why. Everyone from the ushers to the royals were eying the two children in their midst like they were ostentatious accessories.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keke! Let them stare,” Jack said, leaning back and putting his arm along the back of the bench. “We have nothing to hide.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We?” Yami scoffed. “Last I checked, neither of these kids were yours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re my godchildren,” he countered, casting Yami a sneer. “Right, Dust Mite?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blanche. Her name is Blanche,” Charlotte grumbled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, Uncle Jack!” the little girl giggled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yami rolled his eyes and patted her on the head. His gaze landed icily on the cluster of royals watching him from a few pews up. They startled and whirled around, sitting with their backs to him and heads close together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ten minutes later, Kaiser and Mrs. Granvorka were ushered into their pew. “Yami, Charlotte, William, Jack. Good to see you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The four murmured greetings as Kaiser and his wife settled onto the pew beside them. Dust Mite leaned forward in her father’s lap, staring at the couple with a narrow-eyed, curious look. Kaiser’s gaze wafted around the church as he tried to look at anything but her. The minutes ticked by in awkward silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to say it,” Mrs. Granvorka whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kaiser cast her a nervous side-glance. “Honey, no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaned around her husband and smiled warmly. “What beautiful children! Are they yours…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Charlotte’s face reddened. William, Yami, and Jack grinned.</span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon tilted his head back, examining the light coming through the church’s stained glass windows.  Judging from the angle, they had about an hour before this wedding got under way. Which was probably going to be a problem, because every single person involved looked like they were scrambling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Orange, white, and blue flowers decorated the pews, windows, and doors. They flavored the air with a thick, sweet scent. A cacophony of voices filled the building with noise: authoritative shouts, panicked pleas, desperate questions, irritated complaints, all mixing and bouncing off the tall, echoing ceiling. Servants, siblings, and cousins buzzed about in frantic disarray, trying to chip away at the endless list of things that needed to get done before this mess of a wedding began. Surely things were going to be forgotten. Surely Fuegoleon, standing there with idle hands, would be asked to help so that they didn’t. He needed to disappear before that happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slipped through a door near the back of the church and slunk through halls until he found his sister’s dressing room. Halfway through the motion of knocking, he paused. With each day since this madness began, it’d become harder and harder to compile his thoughts, and even though now he was here to say something, he couldn’t decide exactly what needed to be said. He stepped back, unsure if it would be worth it to waste her time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he lost the chance to walk away; the door opened, and Mereoleona poked her head out. She backed up, her look giving him no choice on whether he was going to come in, and when he had, she closed it behind him. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His eyes trailed around the room as he bided his time. It was a decent sized dressing room, most likely reserved for brides on their big day. The open closet door displayed the orange strapless dress that Mereoleona would be walking down the aisle in. On the vanity by the door was an array of jewelry, makeup, and hair accessories; Fuegoleon couldn’t picture his sister in any of it. Sitting at the foot of the fainting couch were Ellie and Leocadio, laughing and playing tug-o-war with a pastel orange veil. From the look of it, it’d been demoted to a toy long ago. The kids were already dressed for their walk down the aisle: Ellie in her little orange flower girl dress, and Leocadio in his tiny blue suit. Mereoleona was still in her street clothes, minus the tunic. Her hair wasn’t even done-- if it was going to be done at all.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Out of things to look at, he turned to her. “I am sorry about last night. I should not have picked a fight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh.” She planted her hip against the vanity and crossed her arms. The way the old furniture rattled didn’t seem to bother her. “We’ve had worse fights over dumber things. You’re not here to rehash it, are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...No.” Resignation twisted his throat like it was trying to rip it in two. He knew when a fight was lost, and this was not one that he was going to win against Mereoleona. While there might be a way to convince her to call this off, he wasn’t going to be the one to supply it. He’d let that eat away at him all night, and it wasn’t what he was here for. He had other things to get off his chest. “I wanted to talk about… what your plan was. If this went your way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She arched a bushy eyebrow. “Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Humor me. Please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona sighed, her eyes moving around the room like she was reading off an elusive script. “Nozel would come to his senses and call it off. That was it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah...? What did you think I wanted to happen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon interlaced his fingers, watching the flames dance across his magic hand. “A few days back, you made a comment about me taking your place. That’s ridiculous. You know that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona let out a humorless chuckle. “What, you mean about you marrying Nozel instead of me? Yeah, I said it. It’s not that ridiculous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s brow fell low over his eyes. He rubbed his hands together, watching flesh and flame shift against each other.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona’s eyebrows rose. “Are you considering it? Because we can have that dress resized, and I’ll take your place on the pew-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The harshness of his voice startled them both. The children’s heads shot up. Fuegoleon spared them a guilty glance before putting his hand on his sister’s shoulder and guiding her to the other side of the room. He spoke in a whisper. “Meoro, why am I jealous?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She stared into his worried eyes, beating past a brick wall of rampant disbelief to process that he was a hundred percent sincere. “You’re jealous, and you don’t know why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. I think so.” His hand slid off her shoulder, and he curled it into a fist and held it in his other hand. “At first I was only irritated at the two of you for being so irrational, but now I realize that this entire situation makes me very jealous. I don’t know why; it’s not like I’m losing my rival or my sister; maybe their relative sanity, but not them. Nozel isn’t going anywhere. You’ll come and go as you always have, I assume. But I can’t shake the feeling that I am losing something, and it’s making me act very illogical about all this. You tease me relentlessly about my feelings, but you always seem to know why I’m feeling them. So help me. Why am I jealous?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona stared at him like she was watching him grow a second head. Thirty-three years of life with her stupid little brother could not prepare her for the stupidest question to ever come out of his stupid mouth. This was beyond parody.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her stupid little brother prattled on. “Maybe it’s seeing how big a reaction you get out of each other. Hearing about your fighting, and seeing the damage to the Silver Eagle’s base… It has been some time since I’ve had a fight that intense with either of you. Not that that can be helped; we’re all busy. I understand that it wasn’t a friendly spar. And I also understand that although your relationship isn’t romantic, you are close. I wouldn’t want to take that from you. And I don’t envy it. But it feels like I’ll lose something if you two are married, and I can’t put my finger on what it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll lose something,” Mereoleona echoed, feeling the absurdity of the words in her mouth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon nodded seriously. “Yes. Do you understand? Do you know why I might be feeling this way?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona dropped her chin to her chest and ran her hand slowly down her face. “You are the stupidest thing to ever come out of House Vermillion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His face fell. “Why would you say that?... Am I overthinking this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. You are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just that, after I talked to you last night, I went to see Nozel, and the way he kissed me goodnight-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-and when he crawled into bed with me before he found you, he seemed so-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Huh!?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“-broken. No, broken is not the right word. But this has worn on him. He likes to act like nothing affects him, but I fear that he may lose a part of himself to this. Do you understand?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona felt like she was taking rapid blows to the head. She lifted her hands slowly, and like a cat catching a fly, locked them around Fuegoleon’s face. “Fuego. Listen to me carefully.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The younger Vermillion’s eyes widened. She had his full attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Listen to the words that come out of your mouth. Really </span>
  <em>
    <span>listen</span>
  </em>
  <span> to them. Spend the next...” She paused and glanced at the clock. “...forty-five minutes listening to them. Then </span>
  <em>
    <span>do something about them.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” he grunted, baffled. “What am I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did I just say!?” Her arms flexed, and she lifted him off the floor by his head. Fuegoleon gasped, clutching her wrists as she wound him back. “Listen! Don’t talk!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sent him head-first through her dressing room wall. Fuegoleon crashed through it and kept going until he hit the wall of the long hall and skidded. He ripped a layer of plaster off the wall before he toppled to the floor in a cloud of dust, stunned and battered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A door opened in front of him. Nozel stepped into the hall and frowned down at him, crumpled into a heap under a layer of ripped up plaster. Tracing his trajectory, he saw Mereoleona, stalking away from the hole in her wall. His eyes returned to Fuegoleon. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon craned his neck upward. Framed in the light from his dressing room, and clad in his lovely blue suit, his face glowed silver. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t look ready to collapse from exhaustion; he looked ethereal again. And he was looking only at him. What he wouldn’t give to live in that moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuegoleon?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh. Good.” He backed up and closed the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait…” He lifted his arm into the air, but it was too late; Nozel was gone. With a weary sigh, it dropped back to the ground.  So, Mereoleona wanted him to listen to what he said, and then do something about it. He would do that. But what was he supposed to do with so little time left?</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Please forgive me for writing Fuegoleon so hopelessly stupid. I honestly don't think he would be this dense about anything but this.</p>
<p>That is all you'll see if these other mysterious kids in this story, but Dust Mite does pop up in the sequel work! If you're really curious about the rest, loafingdragon and I would be happy to babble about them and direct you to works involving them, but I'm assuming what's going to happen at this wedding has you far more invested.</p>
<p>In the next chapter, you'll finally get to know!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. A Wild Authentic Royal Wedding</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After everything, the wedding finally begins!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Well, the moment has arrived; the event you've all been waiting for. Hopefully, it doesn't disappoint. I mean, it disappoints many, in-story, but hopefully it doesn't disappoint YOU, my beloved and valuable reader! Please enjoy... I know I've said this for a lot of chapters, but this one, too, was a pleasure to write.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The ceremony was scheduled to start any minute now. The church was filled, each guest in their assigned seat. In a rush, the ushers hurried to their seats at the back of the church. The officiator, an ancient, bent, mustached man who knew most members of the royal families by first name, shuffled to the altar. The audience quieted to an excited murmur. Music started, and everyone rose to watch the end of the aisle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The music stopped. The audience went silent. There was a shuffling behind closed doors. After a beat, Fuegoleon stepped into the aisle, covered in a thick dusting of plaster. Head low, he scuttled to the front pew and took his seat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The music started up again. Nozel, standing tall in his shimmering blue suit, stepped into the aisle. Shoulders thrown back, head held high, and expression stoic, he walked down the aisle. The dark, determined look on his face displayed none of the cheer an event like this was supposed to engender. He stopped at the altar, his hands crossed neatly in front of him. For a single fraction of a second, his eyes ticked to the front pew, to Nebra’s reserved seat. It was empty. He looked down the aisle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wedding procession began. At its front were Leocadio and Ellie. They walked side by side at a slow, careful pace that the baby could keep up with. Ellie scattered flower petals left and right while Leocadio focused on his steps. A pillow bearing the rings was tied to his wrist, assuring that they made it to the front of the aisle with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A ripple of surprise rushed through the crowd. The sight of the clearly royal children set the church into a restrained tizzy. Ellie, feeding off their energy, beamed. Leocadio, purple eyes glued on Nozel, didn’t even notice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All of the sudden, the baby’s foot caught on the rug. He toppled forward, face sinking into the ring pillow with a startled peep. The audience gasped. Ellie stopped, staring down at him in horror. She looked around, and then back at him, her mind racing. When Leocadio pushed his face out of the pillow, his lower lip quivered. The crowd hummed with concern.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thinking fast, Ellie set down her flower basket, wrapped her arms around his chest, and picked him up. She hurried down the aisle with him, clutching him to her chest. There, in front of the altar, she set him on his feet and adjusted his hands to properly hold the pillow tied to his wrist. Once she was sure that he wouldn’t fall over, she hurried back down the aisle, picked up her basket, and scurried to his side, flinging flower petals behind her as she went. She came to a sudden stop beside Leocadio. Seeing that her hand was still full of petals, she shoved them in her mouth. A triumphant smile curled her lips. Nozel pressed his face to his palm. The audience chuckled and chattered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bridesmaids and groomsmen followed the children belatedly. Arm in arm, Noelle and Solid, Leopold and Mimosa, and Kirsch and Reve strolled down the aisle. Upon reaching Leocadio and Ellie, they split off to their separate sides of the altar. Solid tugged Leocadio’s hand free of the ring pillow, and he stood by Nozel’s side. Ellie, mouth full of flower petals, took the baby’s hand and marched to Fuegoleon’s pew. He picked up Leocadio, and Ellie sat at his side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, Mereoleona stepped to the end of the aisle, clad in a strapless orange dress that darkened to fire red at the train. Her short hair was pulled back, and a crown of flowers sat atop her head. She was wearing light makeup; a shock, since most of the audience had never seen her in any at all. It gave her face a soft, feminine appearance that was completely untrue to her character, and horrifically out of place with her dark scowl. She locked eyes with Nozel’s; and they both knew that never in her life had she wanted to kill someone so badly. Each step she took twisted the air in a vicious way. The carpet threatened to ignite every time her heels connected with the floor. Her walk was a loud and open threat that Nozel met unblinkingly. When she reached the altar, Nozel held out his hands. Hers closed like metal clamps around his. His fingers bent. The tips went purple. The audience did their best not to squirm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The officiant, who had done far too many royal weddings to be put off by a few murderous vibes, cleared his throat and began. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these splendid two in holy matrimony. In our society, we are often drawn to an individual’s magic power. No surer example of incredible power could stand before us now. But I also entreat you to examine another type of power that our wonderful kingdom has in abundance: the power of love.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona’s eyes narrowed to slits as the officiator went on. The air around her was hot and coiled like a spring twisted too far; it felt like any moment it could come undone and incinerate everyone at the altar. Nozel’s stare didn’t falter. His resolve was hard as diamond, and he wouldn’t be intimidated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: O no; it is an ever-fixed mark, that looks on tempests, and is never shaken…”¹</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From his seat in the front row, Fuegoleon leered at them. His jaw was clenched so tight that the veins stood out in his neck. His heart was hammering in his chest. His inner monologue, so frantically cultivated in the last forty five minutes, was reduced to a dull roar. Sweat beaded on his temple. His throat felt dry. His flame hand curled into the side of his pants. The other balled into a fist against his son’s belly. Leocadio chewed on his dusty tie.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Love, I assure you, as passion. You cannot be sensitive if you are not passionate. Do not be afraid of that word passion. But if you have no passion, how can you be sensitive to the ugly, to the beautiful, to the whispering leaves, to the sunset, to a smile…”²</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The officiator spoke with a slow, confident drawl, and he showed no signs of stopping. The bridesmaids and groomsmen shifted on their feet. People checked their watches and watched the sun setting in the windows. Ellie picked the last flower petal out of her basket and slipped it in her mouth, chewing it like a cow chews cud. Somewhere near the middle of the church, somebody’s grampa was snoring. Reve wasn’t even pretending not to sleep anymore. Fuegoleon’s fist was clenched so tight that his knuckles had gone white. Leocadio had plaster on his lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing. It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.”³</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The reading entered what everyone hoped was its fifth act. Kirsch, sighing softly, checked his nails. Solid and Leopold tugged at the cuffs of their sleeves. Noelle grimaced, shifting her weight off the growing pain in her heel. Reve’s sleepy aura made Mimosa sway. The audience was either tipping into sleepiness, or on the edge of their seats. The tension and boredom in the church was palpable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All the while, Mereoleona and Nozel didn’t blink. The bones in Nozel’s hands creaked and bent; good thing they’d gone numb twenty minutes ago, or he would have been in agony. Mereoleona’s teeth were bared in a look that was beyond murderous. She didn’t just want to kill him. She wanted to rip him asunder, slowly, while everyone watched. Still, Nozel did not falter. Not a drop of determination left his face. The mana twisting and thrashing between them would have taken a less experienced officiator’s breath away. But theirs didn’t even slow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And so, all this is what has brought us here today.” He looked up from his book and smiled at the two bristling royals. “Now, let’s begin the vows.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The audience held their breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nozel, do you take Mereoleona to be your wife? Do you promise to love, honor, and trust her in sickness and in health, in adversity and prosperity, and to be true and loyal to her so long as you both shall live?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel’s hands crackled as Mereoleona’s grip finally snapped the bones. Her eyes were wild; her muscles so tense she was nearly trembling. As the Silva’s lips parted, something flashed in her face more powerful than rage: desperation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel drew in a slow, controlled breath. “I-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I OBJECT!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel and Mereoleona’s heads whirled around. The crowd gasped. All eyes turned to Fuegoleon. He stood before his pew, flame fist clenched, Leocadio clutched to his chest, mana throwing up his braided hair wildly. Color flooded his cheeks as he shook his head and bellowed, “I’m sorry, but I cannot allow this to go on! Not when this entire ceremony is built on a sham! I will not-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I KNEW IT!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona’s voice thundered through the cathedral, overpowering every other sound rising from the stirred up crowd. She tossed Nozel’s crumpled hands aside and pointed at her brother. “I KNEW you wouldn’t let this happen! You did it! You figured it out!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s eyes bugged with confusion. He stepped back, but came up against the seat of the pew. Nozel looked between them like they’d suddenly started speaking gibberish. The bridesmaids and groomsmen shuffled nervously as the audience worked itself into a frenzy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona put her hands on her hips, threw her head back, and laughed. “I knew it! Well, you heard it, folks! The wedding is off! Fuegoleon Vermillion is calling it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The officiant’s eyebrows tipped up in innocent befuddlement. “What’s that now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fuegoleon’s jaw dropped, but he couldn’t form a single word over the rising commotion from the audience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona marched from the altar and came to a stop in front of him. She slung her arm around his shoulder, and lowering her voice to a startlingly quiet murmur, asked, “What do you say? You want to get up there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All the tension vanished from Nozel’s shoulders. He shrank with relief. He turned on his heel, back to the audience, and breathed; his first easy breath in three weeks. The very mana radiating from him got lighter. Solid jumped to his aid, mistaking his ease for sickness. Nozel didn’t correct him; he let Solid shoulder his weight while he caught his breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The uncrowned lioness’s voice boomed over the cacophony of baffled voices again. “Sorry, everyone, no wedding today! But we can still have a party!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The royal families bellowed in outrage. At the back of the church, Jack whooped. As Charlotte, William, Kaiser, and Mrs. Granvorka stared in horrified confusion, he turned to Yami with a victorious grin. “I told you, didn’t I? Pay up!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah man,” Yami chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. “Guess that’s what I get for believing in love.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nozel motioned Solid closer with his broken hand. “Wine,” he lilted. “I need wine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean it!” Mereoleona laughed. She beamed at her murderously angry elders as she caught her brother in the most genuinely affectionate hug she may have ever given him. “Let’s go! Let’s party!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Well, if you insist.” Kirsch pressed his finger tips to his temple and smiled nervously. “I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s nothing a little partying can’t fix. Would you like to lead the way, dear cousin?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dragging Fuegoleon with her, she turned on her heel and strutted toward the aisle. But Reve, suddenly animating, cut her off. The witch came to a stop in front of the altar, and in a burst of light that dissolved her pointed ears and red marks, Dorothy replaced her. Her eyes opened wide, a smile stretching across her face. “Hey, everybody! I’ve got a surprise for you!”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The officiator's quotes in order:<br/>1. Sonnet CXVI, William Shakespeare<br/>2. The Book of Life: Daily Meditations with Krishnamurti, J. Krishnamurti<br/>3. The Invitation, Oriah</p>
<p>Well, I guess we'll never know what Nozel's plan was to get out of this wedding. Thanks, Fuegoleon. It was probably going to be spectacular and ingenious, just like everything else Nozel has done in this story. But at least the wedding is off, so everyone (who matters) is happy. RIP to the royal family members who thought this was the most ambitious crossover in recent Clover Kingdom history. It was. Which is why it couldn't happen.</p>
<p>Just a few more chapters left! We hear a little about what happened at the party, and learn what Dorothy's surprise was!... If you couldn't already guess.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Late to the Party</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At the end of the night, those left standing assess the fallout of a great party.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As much as I would have loved to write this whole party, there was no way I could do it justice. I touch on it a little more in the next chapter, but let your imagination run wild until then. Now, let's start slapping bows on some of these plots!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>For the first time since twilight, quiet fell over House Vermillion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mereoleona walked the halls of her family’s castle, assessing the damage. In every room she looked into, exhausted partygoers were sprawled on couches, floors, and spare beds. Those who were still awake were being escorted to guest rooms by servants, or unwinding quietly before finding a place to sleep. The most ostentatious messes were already being cleaned up. The air smelled of booze and good food. For a party that had raged long into the night, there was startlingly little overdrinking; just a lot of wholesome party burnout. Mereoleona smirked. Even outside of battle, no one could keep up with the Vermillions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then again, maybe that was just her. Delving deeper into the castle, she poked her head into her youngest brother’s room. Leopold was sound asleep on his comforter, snoring like a kitten with his braid in his open mouth. Somehow he’d had enough energy to change into his pajamas, but not enough to crawl under the covers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Farther down the hall, she peered into Fuegoleon’s room. The door wasn’t even all the way closed. Fuegoleon laid on his bed, the covers kicked back and his legs tucked under them. His face was soft in sleep. His organic arm was haphazardly slung around Nozel, who was sprawled across his chest in a drunken slumber. Both of them were tousled from the party, but fully clothed; innocently passed out in bed together. Mereoleona bit back a giggle. The two disappeared hours ago; she’d hoped for a more exciting reason, but this would do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She closed the door and strolled to her own room. The day was finally over and everyone got what they wanted; mostly, anyway. This lioness could finally sleep. She stripped naked and scrubbed the makeup off her face, relishing the thought of getting out of here. Now that all this was over, she could finally get back to her adventures in strong magic regions. The thought of Ellie tagging along didn’t even bother her, though she might try to convince the kid to stay here anyway. The challenge of keeping her from killing them both with her childish antics was good training, but not particularly fun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With the worst of the day scrubbed off of her, she strolled back into her room and pulled back the covers. There, she froze. There was someone in the room. Hiding in her closet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Territorial rage boiled from her like an overflowing kettle. She turned, teeth bared, to the closet. “Who the hell’s in there? Come out now!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something shifted behind the open closet door. Her clothes swayed. But nobody came out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her fists caught fire. She prowled forward, snarling, “You asked for it, shithead. Don’t say I didn’t give you a chance to keep your skin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The clothes shifted again as the intruder scrambled away from her. Mereoleona lunged, her arm shooting into the closet. Her snarl tipped into a smirk as she dragged the perpetrator out by the shirt. “Now I’ve got y…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The startled toddler dangling at the end of her fist blinked up at her with wide, grey eyes. Mereoleona stood, frozen, as a feeling of warmth took hold of her like a fever. Familiarity dawned on her from a foreign source. She was forced, violently and against her will, to love this child.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, shit.”</span>
</p><hr/>
<p>
  <span>In a tea room at the Vermillion Castle’s outer fringes, Yami laid down his winning hand of cards and eyed his opponent wearily. His cigarette sizzled down to the butt, and he sighed out a puff of smoke as he dropped it in the ashtray. “You know, it’s not much fun when you keep losing. Not much fun when the money you’re using is worthless, either.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Across the table from him, Julius Novachrono smiled. “I’m sorry. It’s all I have. Some of Dorothy’s money is in there, too. It’s local, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah! You’re still making something off me!” Dorothy leaned her elbows on the table and peered up at him from behind her cards. “Don’t be a grump! Are you getting sleepy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...Eh, maybe.” Yami rolled his tired, aching shoulders. The other captains had left hours ago, but he couldn’t stop in the middle of a winning streak, even if the stakes were low and the hour was late. Besides, it was nice to see Julius after six long months. He wrapped his arm around the pot and pulled it to him. “Let’s say we call it before I steal all your fake money, okay, your highness?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not fake money where I’ve been,” Julius said cheerfully. “Dorothy can back me up on that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah! It’s just what Clover Kingdom money looks like where we’ve been!” the witch agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yami pinched one of Julius’ strange coins between his fingers and brought it to his face. It didn’t look that much different from standard Clover currency, save for its newness, and the heads side. Instead of the first wizard king staring up at him, the coin was superimposed with the profile of a familiar Crimson Lion captain. “Okay, I’ll bite. Where have you been?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Julius and Dorothy exchanged a thoughtful look. “We’ve been to the Clover Kingdom,” she finally replied. “A different version, that’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dark mage’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah?... You teasing me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Yami,” Julius chuckled. “We’re completely serious.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds made up. But then again, so does your whole vanishing without your grimoire thing, so maybe I’m being too close-minded.” He opened the pouch on his grimoire bag and shoveled the coins into it. “Is there more to the story?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yes!” Dorothy assured. “But I think I’d better wait until I complete my research to tell you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cast her a suspicious pout. “Oh yeah? How long’s that gonna take?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe years!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Years?... Well, what’s the short version?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We just told you!” Dorothy chirped. “Julius got lost, and I found him in another version of the Clover Kingdom. More will come in my official report, okay? It’s classified.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” he grumbled. “Well, I guess beggars can’t be choosers. At least you’re back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Julius brandished a warm smile. “I missed you, too, Yami. This version of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door behind them flew open with a bang. The three turned to see Mereoleona, standing at the threshold with an uncharacteristically sheepish scowl. She was dressed in a thin red silk robe and nothing else. “Hey.” A fire paw emerged from behind her, clutching a tiny auburn-haired toddler by the head. “Any of you recognize this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The three stared at the child in awkward silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yami sucked his teeth. “Ah, shit.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'll be honest. This chapter is... mostly for me. Hope you liked it anyway c:</p>
<p>I should point out that the existence of these kids doesn't actually mean I seriously ship their parents. It's more of a "if you tilt your head in the right light and squint a little". They're interesting pairings. </p>
<p>So, remember when I said the Julius subplot would be minimal? This is really all that gets mentioned of it in this story. I'm hoping that loafingdragon will expand on what the hell happened here, because it's actually a super interesting rewrite of the Patri-Julius fight. But that's none of my business.</p>
<p>The last two chapters address the fallout of all this, both publicly and privately, and YES, Nebra is coming back!!! Believe in me!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Damning Artificial Evidence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The day after the wedding, Fuegoleon learns two things: first, what the news has to say about the wedding, and second, that things are not always what they seem.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Nozel day, everybody! What better way to celebrate than posting the first chapter in which he isn't present since Chapter 1?</p><p>I had to take a little more time on this chapter to polish it, and I'm still not sure it's the way I want it. But I promised myself that I wouldn't get hung up on little details for this fic, and what I've got is pretty good, I think. Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Fuegoleon brought his mug to his lips and sucked down his coffee. Over the rim of his mug, he read the front page article of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Clover Weekly.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The photo taking up the center of the page displayed Julius Novachrono atop the balcony of the Magic Knights Headquarters, brandishing his signature winning smile. The title of the article: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wizard King Makes First Public Appearance Since Devil Calamity.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He set down his mug and opened up the paper. After flipping three pages, he finally found what he was looking for: A small, one-column article titled </span>
  <em>
    <span>Royal Wedding Cancelled For Unknown Reasons.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The article was straightforward: the royal wedding that had made the front page two weeks prior did not happen, and sources were not clear as to why. It even hinted that maybe there never was going to be a royal wedding in the first place, and that it could have all been a misunderstanding, as far as the publisher knew. Smart. Publishing an article that displeased royals, even on their request, could be the downfall of a paper. It had happened in this kingdom’s past, and it certainly could happen under Nozel or Mereoleona’s boot. But quietly acknowledging their first article while explaining that nothing came of it  absolved them of all responsibility for the original story without drawing any attention to it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon looked up. His sister was strolling into the dining room, wearing a satisfied smile. She was carrying a box, and dropped it on the table with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>thump.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “We didn’t make the front page!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I just saw.” He smiled wryly, skimming the article again. “In a month, no one will be talking about this at all. You got away with this childish behavior scott-free.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just like any royal should, eh?” she said cheekily. “Hey, I got something for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon lowered the paper, his smile vanishing. “Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She reached into the box and pulled out a thick pink book. The cover featured a photo of the entire wedding party: Mereoleona, Nozel, Noelle, Mimosa, Reve, Kirsch, Solid, Leopold, and Fuegoleon. Across the top, embroidered into the cover in blue thread read </span>
  <em>
    <span>Our Wedding.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon leaned forward, eyes narrowed. “What in the world…” She set it on the table and slid it to him. He stared, baffled, at the photo, examining his image in it. “I wasn’t in this shot!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s altered, dumbass.” She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t think you should be left out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanted to be left out! Why did you…” He opened up the album. The first couple pages were filled of images of the wedding ceremony: The bridesmaids and groomsmen walking down the aisle; Nozel’s dead-eyed stare at the altar; Mereoleona making her way there, looking violently murderous; Mereoleona breaking Nozel’s hands while the officiator drawled. Then it transitioned into post-ceremony stills: a shot of Ellie and Leocadio; the bridesmaids and groomsmen paired up, with Dorothy substituting Reve; varying combinations of those groups; and then a photo of Mereoleona with Fuegoleon and Nozel, her arms around their necks as they tried to get away. There was also a photo of Julius posing with Dorothy, making the peace sign and looking oddly in-place for a wedding crasher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time the photos shifted to the church clearing out, there was an emerging trend. This photographer had been stealthy and thorough. He’d caught Fuegoleon being smacked in the face by the bride’s bouquet while Mereoleona was still curled forward in her follow-through. He’d caught Mereoleona grinning proudly at the camera while Mimosa healed Nozel’s broken hands in the background, and Fuegoleon and Solid watched.  He’d caught Fuegoleon and Nozel, accepting a bouquet from Leocadio while they stood in front of the altar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mereoleona, what did you do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grinned as she leaned against the table. “Well, we paid for wedding photos. I might as well put an album together.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But nobody got married! This is…!” He trailed off as he made his way through the album. By the time he reached the reception, Mereoleona was hardly in any of the pictures, and while they were not the only subjects of the photographer’s lens, he and Nozel showed up in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> of photos together. There was a picture of Nozel and Solid, arms entwined, tipping back glasses of wine. There was a picture of Fuegoleon and Nozel, offering Leocadio tidbits of their dinner at the dining table. There was a picture of Fuegoleon steadying Nozel’s hand as he lunged at the wedding cake with a knife, and then another of Nozel shoving a handful of it into Fuegoleon’s face with an impish smirk. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mereoleona eyed her brother like he was a mouse in a field. “It’s what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon lowered his head, flipping through pages like he was studying a train wreck. There was a photo of him snatching a glass of wine out of Nozel’s hand, his arm around his waist to keep the Silva from snaking out of his grip. Their faces were close together, eyes meeting intensely. Fuegoleon was pretty sure he was entreating him to substitute his wine for water-- which he did --but the framing of the photo made the moment look incredibly intimate. There was a photo of Nozel pulling him into a dance; he’d just reached the peak of his drunkenness, and he’d pulled so hard that Fuegoleon had stumbled, pressing his body against his while Nozel smirked victoriously. Fuegoleon remembered the moment being awkward and annoying, but here it looked so… tender? There was a photo of the moment after Mereoleona dumped Leocadio in their arms while they danced, inevitably leaving them trapped on the dance floor with him for a slow song. The loving gaze that they fixed the baby with, coupled with the tender way they were holding each other…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ran his hand down his face, mortified. “Why does this look like Nozel and I got married!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mereoleona snorted back a laugh. “Don’t blame me! Those aren’t altered. That’s just how you two are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuegoleon was growing uncomfortably warm. Every page of the album contained at least one picture of him and Nozel looking </span>
  <em>
    <span>extremely</span>
  </em>
  <span> intimate: Fuegoleon’s arm around his waist while Nozel leaned on him drunkenly for support, the two chatting with guests while seemingly hand-in-hand-- Fuegoleon </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> remember keeping a grip on Nozel’s hand, and it was hard to tell from the picture, but it sure looked that way. Even the photos where he was positive that they were arguing almost looked like they were leaning in to kiss. This was a nightmare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flipped through page after page of evidence of a fabricated romance, his face growing redder with each photo. Finally, he found an event that could not possibly be twisted: Ellie, Blanche, and Leocadio standing in the snow, grinning proudly. Ellie had broken out of the party and led the other children into the courtyard, where the adults found them huddled in a snow fort telling each other stories. The panic to find them, and the effort  to coax them out of their fort, led to some short-lived fun in the fresh, sparkling powder. He relaxed. Maybe he was overthinking it. None of </span>
  <em>
    <span>these</span>
  </em>
  <span> pictures looked that bad, even the ones with him and Nozel at their focus. There was a shot of the kids, throwing powder over their heads and laughing while it sparkled in the air above them; Noelle using Sea Dragon’s Lair, and Julius using his time magic, to create a life-sized snow globe; Nozel holding Leocadio, smiling warmly while the baby caught snowflakes. Fuegoleon with Ellie and Leocadio on his shoulders while Nozel looked on cautiously. These were very nice. Very tasteful. They eased his suspicions; so much so that he was completely unprepared for the photo of himself, sitting on a couch, with Nozel and Leocadio wrapped in his arms. Leocadio was half-asleep, his chubby cheek pressed to Nozel’s chest. Nozel had a scarf wrapped around his neck, and his grumpy expression was hidden up to his nose, but his body was relaxed against Fuegoleon, who had one hand around on his waist and the other on the top of his head. All he was doing was warming them up; he didn’t want them to catch a cold. Leopold and Mereoleona were doing the same thing to their cousins and friends! So why did it look like they were settling in for a private night of cuddling?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took in the rest of the album as an embarrassing blur, because it just kept getting worse. It all culminated in a photo of Nozel clutching Fuegoleon’s hand as he led him off to his bedroom. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> to coax him into a guest bed, but when Nozel followed him into his own room and passed out on top of him, he hadn’t kicked him out…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong, little brother?” Mereoleona’s smirk widened. “Isn’t that how you remember it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...No.” Upon reaching the final page, he closed the album. “Was it-- did we really look like this all night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Her voice shook with a barely contained laugh. “The rest of us thought it was cute.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cute!? It’s embarrassing!” He pushed the album away like it was tainted. “Why didn’t anybody tell me we looked like this? Nozel will be horrified!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mereoleona threw back her head and laughed. She scooped a second album out of the box, and tucked it under her arm, she headed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hairs on Fuegoleon’s neck stood on end. “Wait! Where are you going? What are you doing with that!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m dropping this off at House Silva. This one’s Nozel’s.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Fuegoleon leapt to his feet, his fists clenched. “No one can see that! Nozel will never forgive me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took off running.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MEREOLEONA!"</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>See? Nozel didn't do *all* the wedding planning. Mereo was in charge of the reception and wedding album!</p><p>You know, I think that most of us really don't know how we look to everybody else. I know that every time I see myself in a picture, I go "Whomst?" Fuegoleon's being smacked around by a pretty heavy-handed dose of Outside Perspective.</p><p>Fuegoleon's revelation here may or may not have consequences for his relationship with Nozel later on. Depends on how good a writer I happen to be on any given day. (Just kidding, I'm a good writer 5 days out of 7 and I've already written how it does).</p><p>Next, we check in on the Silvas! ALL the Silvas! I know, it's been a while. They're all alive, so don't worry too much.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. A Place We Call Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Nebra and Nozel have a very overdue talk.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy new year, darlings! Well, I've got a few hours until the new year at the time of posting this, but you get the idea. We're at the end of this story, which is a very satisfying way for me to say goodbye to this cluster of a year.</p><p>In this chapter, I try to capture what the new, evolving Silva dynamic looks like, and then give Nebra and Nozel their Awkward Sibling Bonding moment that we've all been waiting for.</p><p>I had no idea what to call this chapter, so I did what all great fanartists do: I turned to my character playlists. The title is based on the song All That You Are by Goo Goo Dolls and it does a decent job of summarizing the vibe of this chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Solid placed his hands on the coffee table and leaned into them, his eyes narrowed incredulously. “This isn’t going to work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nebra, beside him, hummed in agreement and curled her fingers to her lip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes it will! Just wait! Watch!” their little sister said. Noelle peeled the lid off of the can of instant coffee and dumped two scoops of instant grinds into a tea cup. Then, she picked up the teapot and poured hot water over the ugly brown pile. Nebra and Solid leaned in as she picked up a tea spoon and stirred. When she set the spoon down and picked up the cup, the two of them leaned back like the concoction could bite them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s it?” Nebra asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noelle grinned. “Yep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t even strain it,” Solid said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t need to set?” Nebra pressed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I don’t believe you.” Solid plucked the cup from her hands and eyed the coffee warily. “That can’t be the whole process. Coffee is more complicated than that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s disgusting!” Nebra cried, covering her nose. “It doesn’t even smell good. Put it down, Solid, I feel less refined just looking at it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solid gave it a sniff, and lip curling, he shoved it back into Noelle’s hands. “Do you drink this shit?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! Of course not,” she scoffed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? You’re bringing this murk into our home, and you won’t even drink it yourself!?” Nebra gasped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drink it!” Solid grabbed the cup, pushing it toward her mouth. “Drink it and tell us what it tastes like!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No!” Noelle shrieked, struggling to push it back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nebra backed away as the two staggered around the tea room, spilling instant coffee all over the table and floor. Solid’s smile turned devilish as he got the cup over her head-- not noticing that it was already empty. Noelle must not have noticed either, because she let out a panicked scream, and her grimoire, on the end table, flipped open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sea Dragon’s Lair leapt to life around her, shooting Solid and the empty cup out of its perimeter. He let out a startled squeal as he was sent flying. He slammed into the wall by the door and slumped to the ground, stunned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nebra covered her face with her hand, muffling a snort that broke into a laugh. “Oh Solid, that’s not going to work anymore. Noelle can defend herself now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tension left Noelle’s shoulders as she found herself in the uncharted territory of sisterly camaraderie. She puffed her chest, flipped her pigtail, and said, “Well, Solid, you always wanted me to fight back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nebra trilled with laughter. Solid sank against the wall, embarrassed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opened, and Nozel stepped through, holding a pink book under his arm. Nebra grew quiet as he surveyed the room with a critical gaze. “What is going on here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noelle dispelled her lair and looked around the coffee-soaked tea room, fidgeting. Solid went still, as if he could vanish from his brother’s sight if he did. They both of them looked to Nebra for a passable explanation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. “I see the guards let you back in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Noelle and Solid’s heads whipped toward Nozel like they were watching a tennis match.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, they did,” he replied, matter-of fact. “I suspect that they may have gotten an order from you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I don’t know about that.” She pressed her knuckles to her lip, hiding a smirk. “But maybe I forgot to tell them to keep you out while I was reading the morning paper.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Nozel pursed his lips. The two eldest Silvas stared each other down in a silence that left their younger siblings scrambling for purchase.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s take a walk,” said Nozel. He turned and stepped back out of the room. “Noelle, Solid, get this mess cleaned up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, big brother,” they chorused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nebra followed Nozel out. In the wake of their departure, Noelle and Solid scrambled to collect their things and hunt down a servant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they walked down the hall, Nebra took in Nozel’s appearance in short sideways glances. It had been almost three weeks since she’d seen him, but it’d felt much longer. In that time, the righteous fury she’d so deeply felt had fizzled out to morbid curiosity, and then, to loneliness. She’d missed him. And from what she’d heard from Noelle and Solid, she was a little concerned for him, too. But here he was, perfectly fine. She should have known that a few weeks of little sleep, 14 hour work days, battling the Uncrowned Undefeated Lioness, and planning a fake shotgun wedding wouldn’t leave any lasting damage. He still looked a little tired, but that was nothing. He almost always looked a little tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes trailed to the book tucked under his arm: an ugly pink photo album. From what she’d been told, there was neither time nor precedent for it. But Solid had been drunk and Noelle admitted she wasn’t paying attention, so who knew how reliable they were. She looked away, examining the artwork they passed in the hall. Where were they going? With Nozel leading, the answer could easily be nowhere. He liked to wander. She’d prefer a destination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Silver Eagles have been impeccably led in my absence.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nebra peered up at him through her lashes, a flattered smile touching her lips. She looked away before she could be caught with it. “Well, I couldn’t let our squad be neglected while you were preoccupied. It is the pride of all of House Silva, not just you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a load off my mind knowing that I didn’t have to worry about it.” Nozel’s eyes remained fixed ahead, but slowly, the formality was slipping out of his voice. “I will have to make it up to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I don't know about that.” She pressed a curl finger to her lip, her gaze drifting down the hall. “Given what you’ve put yourself through, and since it worked to clear my name, I’d say we’re even.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A silence followed; contemplative, almost comfortable. Nebra’s eyes once again returned to the album. Surely it was going to come up? She didn’t know how long she could pretend that it wasn’t there. “Then again, if you’re still feeling penitent, I’m sure I could think of some favors.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“...I am listening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about your time at House Vermillion.” She fixed him with a smile brimming with curiosity. “You have to have stories. Oh, you must have so many. Noelle and Solid do. I want to hear them all.” Her eyes shined. “Make me feel like I almost did marry him. Oh, if he’d asked under any other circumstances…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nozel’s stoic deadpan cracked into a smile. He shifted the album under his arm, but he didn’t open it. “Of all things to ask for in such an advantageous position…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t need anything from you, brother. I got what I wanted. Anything else is gravy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He peered down at her with soft eyes; the closest, she suspected, that she would get to a thank you. “Well, then, where to start?… You should have come to the reception.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know,” she sighed. “That’s my biggest regret in all of this. But that’s besides the point.” She tilted her head and smiled cheekily. “Get to the good stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed and shifted the album into both hands. Nebra nearly leapt on him when he opened it up. “Let’s find somewhere to sit. I’ll start at the end and work back.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>They proceeded to have a wonderful day talking about how hot Fuegoleon is and roasting Nozel. The end c:</p><p>Like I said at the beginning, this is the prequel for a longer work that is 99% written and will be coming soon! We have some smaller works to post first that flesh out the timeline, and then you'll get to see our most ambitious work to date. If you're a fan of the series, you'll like what's in store! Thank you for reading this roller coaster and I can't wait to hear from you about the next one! Have a bitchin 2021!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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